A Bedtime Story
by Tokyo the Glaive
Summary: Ex-Turk Tanith Drake travels to Edge seeking forgiveness for past actions. Claiming to be a private investigator, she decides to help others as best as she can, beginning with Tifa Lockheart. However, in a city she doesn't know with no possessions save a motorcycle and the clothes on her back, can atonement be found, or will she forever be branded an unwanted traitor?
1. Chapter 1

It was raining in Edge. It began as a soft mist, but by the time I'd found my way to my destination, it was coming down hard and heavy. I parked my bike under an awning and removed my helmet, shaking out my hair. The bar looked packed. I debated leaving, but ultimately decided against it. _After all_, I wondered_, who knows if I'll ever be back here?_

Leaving the helmet propped on top of the locked bike, I climbed the few stairs and pushed open the doors. It was indeed loud and crowded. All of the tables were full, including the benches. At the counter, though, I spied a single open space and made my way toward it.

I slid onto the edge of the stool and checked out the selection. No sooner had I sat down than the barkeeper had appeared to take my order. I guessed she was younger than I, but by no more than ten years. She was remarkably pretty and certainly well-endowed.

"What can I get for you?" she asked. "We've got Da Chao's, the Costa del Sol Signature, LOVELESS-"

"You serve anything other than beer?"

She nodded. "Whisky, Gin, Vodka, and Absinthe. What'll it be?"

I wrinkled my nose at the hard liquors. "No wine?"

She offered a sympathetic smile. "We haven't been able to get in a single reliable shipment. All of the major brands have been linked to outbreaks."

"All right. I'll take a LOVELESS, then, for starters."

"You got it," she responded, walking away. "Do you want a glass with that?" I shook my head no, and she returned with a bottle. "Enjoy," she said.

I put the bottle to my lips and took a drink. A fruit beer, it tasted strongly of apples. I smiled to myself and the words to a song ran through my mind unbidden: "_For nothing is sweeter than an apple on the eve of a warm summer's night in Banora…_"

I took another drink and turned to watch the rest of the bar. There was a certain ebb and flow to the patrons. They all seemed like regulars from the way they greeted each other and the girl who worked the bar. They were loathe to venture out into the rain, and I heard a number of comments about the unnatural showers they'd been getting.

There was nothing unnatural about it. It was just that they'd been living under a giant plate for years, a plate that permitted neither sunshine nor rain for the people living underneath. I pitied them and was disgusted in turn by their ignorance.

The beer went down easy as I people-watched, and I ordered a second. There were two children making their way around the tables. One was a little girl with a red ribbon in her hair. She greeted everyone she came across by name and asked them endless questions about themselves. She dragged with her a little boy with a pathetic mop of hair who didn't seem to want to be there. I watched the pair go round the tables until the girl spotted someone in particular.

"Papa!" she squealed, dropping the little boy's hand to run to a man who had just appeared in the doorway. He was tall, with dark skin and a mechanical arm. I looked back at the tiny, extraordinarily fair-skinned girl clutching at his legs. She was adopted, then, or else he was her stepfather. The boy hung back, looking shy and not a little defensive.

"Barret!" the bartender called out. "Good to see you!"

The man with the machine gun arm waded through the other patrons until he got to the bar. When he leaned on the wood, it groaned under his force. "Tifa!" he boomed, holding the little girl with his flesh arm. "Where's Spikey?"

Tifa the bartender looked to the side and said nothing. The little girl in Barret's arms stopped squirming and looked sad. Behind me, there was a scuffle, and the little boy darted past the bar and up the stairs. Tifa moved to follow him, then thought better of it.

When she turned, I caught sight of her other arm and realized: the ribbon on her arm only meant one thing. Whoever Barret had asked about was probably dead. I tried to tune out the conversation out of respect, but Barret was right next to me, and he was loud.

"Aw, shi-," cutting himself off, Barret just growled. "He'll be back. Don't you worry, you hear? He always comes back."

Tifa was still staring at the ground when she said, "I hope so."

The little girl tugged at Barret's shirt until he put her down. "I'll be right back, okay?" she asked, smiling in the way only a child can. She then darted up the stairs after the boy.

Barret leaned into the counter after the girl disappeared. He glanced to either side and caught me staring. My face flushed, and to cover my mistake, I said, "Excuse me, could I get another?" My second bottle still wasn't empty, but based on the growing pit in my stomach, I was going to need that third.

When Tifa returned with the third LOVELESS, Barret whispered, "How's Denzel?"

Tifa shook her had. "It hasn't progressed at all, but I heard from Reeve that that's how all of the others have been." She held onto her arm just below the colored ribbon. "We've been careful about the water we use, along with everything else. Marlene's just fine."

Barret reached over the counter and put his hand on Tifa's shoulder. "I'm not worried about you with Marlene, Tifa," he said softly. "You're doing me a big favor, watching her while I go scope the fields. I know you're taking good care of my girl."

Tifa offered a weak smile. Someone called Barret's name from the other end of the bar.

"If you need anything," he said seriously, "just call. Maybe we're not the team we used to be, but damn it, Tifa, I'm still here." He held his hand up to his ear to mimic calling as he backed toward the people who had called him over. "I'm heading out tomorrow morning. If nothing comes up, when I see you again, I'll be starting on the biggest damn oil field you've ever seen!"

"Fill me in, okay?" Tifa called. Barret didn't respond. I polished off my second LOVELESS and went to open the third.

"Oh, I've got that," she said. "I'm sorry, I should have gotten it before." She popped the metal cap off and handed me the bottle. "Sorry about that."

"Is there a problem?"

Tifa did her best to smile. "No, not at all. Nothing interrupts business at Seventh Heaven!"

I shook my head and pulled out my wallet. "If you're looking for someone," I said, keeping my voice casual, "I used to work with a private firm that specialized in missing persons." She watched me carefully as I stood up and turned to the door, leaving the third beer untouched. "If you're interested, I'm staying at the Borough Hotel. I'm going to be in the area for the next few days."

When she responded, her voice was tight and guarded. "What brings you to the area?"

I took a few moments to gather my response, then, with a slight turn of my head, I smiled and said, "Atonement."


	2. Chapter 2

My past few years of employment had seen the ceiling of my alcohol tolerance significantly raised, but, as one of my ex-partners always used to remind me, driving while intoxicated was one of those things that frequently led to uncomfortable situations. Either you crashed, or you got yourself lost, or what have you: no matter what, you ended up talking to the wrong person at the wrong time and spilling your secrets. Never accept a ride home from a bar for the same reason. If the company couldn't get someone to pick you up, walk, he'd tell me. Walk fast, walk with a purpose, but walk. Since I couldn't walk, I drove, very slowly, to the Borough, taking the streets I knew would be devoid of most people.

The upshot was that I had only a slim chance of getting into an accident. The downside was that I got to see the streets that most people avoided altogether, and in slow motion.

By that, I mean the streets where all the people, particularly the orphans, with Geostigma came to die. Either they were kicked out of their homes or they left in fear of infecting others: in the end, it didn't matter how they'd left. They came to the back alleys and the gutters, the places where the water was stagnant and the roaches reigned king, to die. There was a hospital to the south of Midgar, close to the Mythril Mines, that took patients with Geostigma, but few could bear to go too far from home, and fewer still could make the long journey. Nowhere was safe.

When I got to the hotel, I parked my motorcycle myself and checked the locks twice. Crime in Edge was high, as always, and vehicle theft was one of the most common infractions. I wondered what my old boss would have said about the turbulent state of affairs the world had found itself in after the fall of ShinRa. I had to smile when I thought about it: he probably would have been too busy laughing at the idiocy of it all to make a comment.

I took everything I'd brought, and, stepping inside, approached the receptionist's desk immediately. "Excuse me," I said, "I'd like to book a room."

The woman behind the counter raised her head sluggishly. Her eyes were bloodshot and wet. I noticed the same ribbon on her arm as had been on Tifa's.

"I'm going to be staying for a few days," I said, filling in the silence. "Four, at the most. Can I book a room for that long?"

The woman nodded slowly, then averted her eyes. She mumbled something incoherent.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you," I said.

Speaking at a whisper, she said, "It's one hundred gil a night."

"Fine," I said. "Here's payment for tonight." I slid the gil over the desk. She didn't move to take the gil, but she also didn't say anything as I reached behind the desk to take a room key.

The key was engraved with the room number, and that number just so happened to be nine, the only room on the top floor, and, if I had to guess, the smallest one. I collapsed on the single bed and stared at the sloping ceiling. Maybe I should have given the receptionist a little something to cheer her up. I had brought in the stash of medicine I kept in my bike for emergency use: just the standard, over-the-counter stuff, nothing fancy. I had a couple of Hypers in there. Maybe I could have given her a hand.

I put my hands over my face as if to smother my thoughts. "No," I said out loud. "No, no, no. You can't help everyone. Stay on track."

_But_, I thought, _if you can't even think to help a woman like that, how can you ever help anyone else? You never know; she might be the one to wipe the margins clean_.

I rolled over and shoved my face in the pillow. It was late, it was raining, and I was wet; I was in a city I didn't know, with only a few cards linked to a bank account it wasn't safe to use anymore, a wallet full of gil, a phone, a few vials of medicine, and a motorcycle. No clothes, no toiletries, nothing to make it livable. The last thing I needed was my own mind trying to bring me down.

The blankets and pillows smelled like bleach, and I wondered who the last inhabitant of the room had been. No one, I supposed bitterly, who'd lived too long.

I wasn't afraid of infection. That wasn't it. It was just the smell, that horrible, hospital stench, that made me strip all of the sheets off the bed and shove them in the closet. There was nothing else in that little alcove except a safe that wouldn't lock and a couple of bent hangars. I blocked the closet door with a chair and sat down on the mattress.

Geostigma. Sickness. Plague. Poverty. Death. Geostigma.

"This," I said out loud, staring at my hands, "is our legacy, isn't it?" I moved to look out the window. The barkeeper, the receptionist, the kids in the street-they were all paying the price for something they didn't do.

I laid my head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. If that was the case, so be it. I'd give the woman a Hyper the next time I saw her. I'd go out, early in the morning, and start searching for answers. With those thoughts in mind, I pulled my jacket tightly around my body and tried to sleep.

* * *

I awoke at six-thirty sharp the next morning. I checked myself in the mirror and tried to fix my hair. I stank, but I didn't trust the hotel enough to brave a shower or even a quick hand wash. I slicked my hair back with saliva and put it back up into a ponytail. I looked like a mess, but for the moment, I had to deal with it.

Putting my room key in my pocket, I headed downstairs. A man I didn't recognize was working the receptionist's desk.

"Excuse me," I said, "the female receptionist who was here yesterday; is she in today?"

The man regarded me for a few moments before shaking his head. "I'm afraid yesterday constituted her last shift."

"Oh," I said. "Do you know where I can find her? I have something to give her."

"Ma'am, I don't know how else to tell you this, but the woman you spoke with died last night. She was taken to the crematorium earlier this morning."

The crematorium was where they took all of the bodies that had been infected with Geostigma. It was standard procedure.

I stared at the spot just between the man's eyes. As part of my training many years ago, I learned how to conceal emotions: rage, happiness, and sorrow all got in the way of the job. Seeming to make eye contact without actually doing so was one way to avoid emotional engagement while in person.

"Well then. That's a shame," I said. "Well, I told her, but I'll tell you now. I'm going to be staying in the area for a few more days-three more nights, at most. I paid for last night already, and I've got my key. Would you rather I pay for the next three up front?"

"Yes, please," the man said, extending his hand.

I handed him the three hundred gil. "I'm staying in room nine," I replied. "If anyone calls and asks for me, call this number and tell me who it was. I'll contact them if it's important. I'll make it worth your while." I made a show to glance at the gil I'd handed over.

The man's eyes narrowed as he took the number. "If someone does attempt to contact you here, how would they refer to you, Miss…?"

I smiled. "Don't be ridiculous. You know as well as I do that I'm the only person in this hotel. I doubt there'll be much room for error."

* * *

Edge may have been a sprawling city, but I drove fast and reached the outskirts in a matter of minutes. When I started seeing the signs, I took the derelict highway that still connected Edge to Sector Four of the old Midgar.

The streets were, miraculously enough, mostly clear. The survivors who had built Edge had done so with the scraps of Midgar, using any debris and wreckage they could find.

I hooked a turn into Sector Five, the ShinRa Residential District, and parked my motorcycle. All of the so-called "residences" looked more like ghost attractions than anything else. In the harsh light of day, they were pigsties: rotten, corroded piles of rubble in their own right.

_Too soon_, I thought. _I came too soon. I can't do this now._

I could see the old church a little ways down. It looked worse for wear, but at least it was still standing. The people had wanted to tear it down so that it could be used to construct Edge, but I'd heard that Reeve Tuesti hadn't allowed them to touch the building. Some stones still went missing, as was expected, but the main body of the structure remained intact.

I started walking toward it, then stopped. "Too soon," I said out loud. Then I laughed. Pathetic. Pathetic coward, afraid of a gutted old building.

When my phone rang, I nearly screamed. My ringtone was loud and obnoxious, and only then did I realize just how silent the ruins of Midgar were. It wasn't anything like it used to be. The old city was dead.

"Hello?" I answered, flicking the phone open.

"Miss," I heard on the other end of the line. It took me a moment to recognize the speaker as the male receptionist. "A call came in for you a few minutes ago."

"Who was it?" I asked, leaning on my bike. A picture of Tifa the barkeeper came to mind.

"He didn't leave his name," the receptionist replied. "Only a message: 'The president is looking for friends. Meet at Sector Six.' Does that mean anything to you, Miss?"

I grimaced and shut my eyes. "Yes, yes it does. Thank you kindly. You'll be compensated, I assure you."

"Miss."

"Yes?"

There was a pause on the other end before the man spoke. "You can't 'compensate' me if you die. Be careful." A click told me that the line was dead.

* * *

Author's Note: Here ends chapter two. Since I didn't do so before, I wanted to make a few notes about this story. First and foremost, this story starts just before the beginning of the film, Advent Children. I've tried to make as few deviations as possible from the actual events, but certain things, such as the cremation of the bodies, I've added for a sense of morbidity and realism.

Please bear with me while the story gets under way. The real action begins with chapter three.

As always, thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Sector Six was just as deserted as Sector Five. I left my bike behind and made the trek on foot, trying to look nonchalant as I padded through the mud-filled streets. Last night's rain had softened the earth, but it didn't look like it had done any damage.

They had found me at the hotel, after all of that time. It was reasonable to guess that they were watching, even now, to see what I was going to do.

I passed by a building that used to be an inn. Now it most closely resembled a detritus heap of oxidized metal and unusable plumbing. On my right was an old pharmacy. Though the roof had caved in, someone had made a makeshift door through the rubble. Peeking my head in, I saw that the place had been looted of whatever medicines it might have once sold.

The wreckage of tents and solid buildings alike greeted me as far as the eye could see. I walked as far as Don Corneo's old mansion, a place that I had thankfully only ever seen in pictures, before turning back around.

"Hello?" I called. "Where are you?"

I heard no response. The sun was getting hotter and brighter steadily, and I wished for a nice, cold glass of something to calm the nerves.

"Hello?" I shouted again.

Then I heard a shudder, as of something sliding, followed by a crash and a woman's scream. I saw a small cloud of dust not thirty feet from where I stood and ran to it.

Someone was coughing, and a hand came through a pile of trash. Instinctively, I grabbed the hand and pulled, hard. I lost my balance and fell backwards, only to be knocked flat on my back by the person I'd pulled out.

She was coughing violently and sneezing in between the hacking. "Oh, T-Tseng, I'm sorry, I-AH!" She jumped back as she caught sight of me.

I stood up unsteadily and brushed myself off. "Ouch…" I mumbled. On the way down, I'd cut my arm on a jagged piece of _something_. I moved to investigate, but the unmistakable sound of the safety being taken off of a gun drew my attention back to the woman who had crashed into me. She stood, legs braced apart, holding a gun with two shaking hands. Blonde hair, blue suit, but too young to be my ex-partner…

"Who are you?" the woman demanded. "Who did you kill to get that uniform?"

"Kill?" I asked. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Elena. Stand down."

The blonde woman's attention was immediately elsewhere. The gun was at her side in a matter of moments.

"Tseng!" she said, running at the man who had just appeared from one of the southern buildings. She tried to say more, but she couldn't seem to decide what it was she wanted to articulate.

"…Calm down," the man said, "and brush yourself off. Did you find it?"

Elena bobbed her head furiously. "There're at least twenty full doses here. The scavengers must not have seen them under the…stuff they were under."

Tseng nodded, then turned his attention to me. "I see you got the message."

Elena looked sharply to Tseng. "_This_ is the person we were waiting for?"

"I was worried you wouldn't come. Here, you even showed up early, and in uniform to boot, though I must say it has seen better days."

I narrowed my eyes and moved so that I could watch both Tseng and Elena at the same time. "I was in the area," I replied. "And you? What's your business here?"

Elena opened her mouth to speak but Tseng silenced her with a single look. He stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of us. "Orders," he said. "From the top."

"To do what?" I questioned.

"That's classified," he responded smoothly. "Unless, of course, you're in."

"In on what?" I asked. "ShinRa Company is all but gone. The President is dead; so is Hojo. Last I heard, Heiddeger and Scarlet were down, too, and I thought Reeve was out of the game. Who are you answering to now, Palmer?"

Tseng's eyes narrowed dangerously. "President ShinRa is still alive."

Whatever response I might have vocalized caught in my throat. I remembered, years and years ago, standing in line with the rest of the Turks, being introduced by the old President ShinRa to a young, blonde, fair-haired boy. He was shoved into a white suit even then, though his shoulders were hardly broad enough for the material to lay properly.

"Rufus ShinRa," I finally breathed. "I thought WEAPON…"

Tseng waved a hand dismissively. "That is past. At the present, the President feels great pain. He takes personal responsibility for the fate that has befallen the Planet."

"I'm sure he does."

"Tanith." I stopped at the sound of my name. "The President is seeking allies to help rebuild this world-with or without ShinRa's obvious presence, I assure you."

"Pretty words," I said, "do nothing."

"This, coming from the Serpent?"

"I'm not a Turk anymore, Tseng," I said. "Or don't you remember? You may have been kept on, but the rest of us were given a fate worse than death."

Tseng cocked his head. "Is that truly how you consider exile? Worse than death?"

I averted my eyes. "You wouldn't understand. They kept you."

A silence settled between the two of us. Elena, nearly forgotten in the background, was getting antsy.

"Tseng," she said softly, "we need to deliver these, or else…"

"Elena," I spoke. "You don't remember me, do you?"

She paused and turned away from Tseng. "No. Should I?"

I thought for a moment, then said, "Never mind." To Tseng, I asked, "Where's the President now?"

The Wutain man adjusted his tie. "…We're working on it," he said quietly. "He sent us out to seek aid in ShinRa's bid at restoration. He was kidnapped by a militant mob and is now apparently with one of Hojo's scientists, a man by the name of Kilmister."

"You sound well-informed, as always."

"Veld, and a personal letter from the President," Tseng replied simply. He paused before saying, "Veld was here earlier, looking for you. The others have been sending him information. Only you have kept silent."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I was right, and Veld was wrong. You shouldn't have been a Turk." Tseng's eyes were cold. "You bear no conviction."

The look in his eyes vanished when I began to laugh. "Conviction," I said, giggling. "Conviction?"

"Tseng, is she well?" Elena asked, sounding meek. Tseng didn't look so sure himself.

"Conviction," I gasped, "is why I'm here. Why would I come to Midgar when I was sentenced to live the rest of my life in Mideel? Not that Mideel is inhabitable anymore, anyway."

"You were sent to Mideel?"

I nodded. "The Vice-President-ah, President, I suppose, said it would be good for me. A little bit of that southern air, something like how my home used to be." I still remembered when we were assigned our posts. He thought he was doing me such a service.

"He's changed, Tanith."

"Right."

Tseng shook his head. "…We're running behind schedule. You used to take pride in being a Turk. You say you've got conviction: prove it." He turned his back on me and began walking toward Sector Five. "You know what to do. You've got my number if you decide to do it."

He walked a few paces before I called, "…Tseng?"

"…Tanith."

"When was she hired?" I asked, gesturing at Elena. Though he couldn't see my movements, I knew he understood.

"Shortly after the second incarnation of AVALANCHE bombed two of Midgar's reactors. Reno was seriously injured and required a replacement."

"So they brought in a newbie rather than facing the old tried and true." Elena's face was as white as a sheet, her fury as palpable as if she'd slapped me with it.

Tseng just shrugged. "Orders are orders," he said, that famous finality in his voice giving his words an edge. "I hope you make the right choice."

"Are you pestering the other ex-Turks this way?" I demanded.

"No. They _are_ ex-Turks: they've been living their lives, albeit rather comfortably, while still sending in anything that could be of use to the company. They deserve their rest. As of this moment, you are merely a traitor, and a loose end at that."


	4. Chapter 4

I watched Tseng and Elena disappear into the rubbish-filled distance before I moved a muscle. Traitor. _Traitor_. I had once been nearly sentenced to death with that brand, and Tseng knew it. My fists clenched into balls. He certainly knew how to hit a soft spot.

Before I left Wall Market, I checked the place where Elena had caused a trash-slide. There was, however, nothing to give any indication to what she had found. Whatever it was, she had taken it all with her.

I walked quickly back to my motorcycle, my eyes fixed on the ground. There were fresh footprints in the mud that I attributed to Tseng and Elena. I followed them back to my bike. They had stopped there for a moment, and I checked to make sure the motorcycle hadn't been sabotaged. Convinced that it was safe, I followed the footprints on a ways further until they met up with a third pair.

The trail was a muddy mess from there on out. There was a handprint, too big to be Elena's, and a deep indentation that suggested something had been there for quite some time. I looked into the distance in either direction. There was no indication that anything had been there, and I hadn't heard the telltale sounds of helicopter blades. For now, they were still on foot, along with whatever they'd picked up.

But what had they been looking for? I hadn't seen them searching the rubble while I was walking through the old red light district. They must have known I was there, but they had ignored my presence until I got myself involved. What could have been so important?

I mounted my motorcycle, and I had just picked up my helmet when my phone rang for a second time. Taking a deep breath, I took the call.

"Hello?"

"Miss?" The hotel receptionist again.

"Yes, hello?"

"You received another call, Miss," he said. "A woman this time: she said that you would know her as the bartender at Seventh Heaven. She didn't leave a message, but she said that you gave her permission to call."

"Yes, I did. Did she say how I could reach her?"

"She left a number." He read me the digits slowly. "Miss, are you well acquainted with this woman?"

"Why?" I asked, defensive. Something about the eagerness on his voice made me nervous.

"Well, it's just that… All right. I heard a rumor that Tifa Lockheart-the bartender, of course, everyone knows Tifa!-was one of the people who defeated the great 1st Class SOLDIER Sephiroth after he went crazy and summoned that giant Meteor." He paused. "Hey, um, I'm doing you a big favor and all with these calls, and I'd really like to meet-"

"We'll talk when I get ready to leave." With those words I hung up and leaned forward to rest my head on the motorcycle. The feelings inside me roiled and threatened to explode. I had offered to help someone when I couldn't even help myself, and now she was expecting me to follow through, to say nothing of the receptionist.

_Face it, you don't really care about any of these people. Tseng was right. You go one way, then another, following whatever suits your interests. You're not a friend, you're not a Turk, you're not an anything. You can't even get over something that happened years ago._

I groaned and picked my phone back up. No, I decided. I was going to prove myself wrong. If I didn't think I had what it took to be anything, then I would do something and stick with it.

The phone rang twice before I heard Tifa's voice.

"Hello?" she asked, tentative.

"Good morning," I replied. "Have I reached the bartender of Seventh Heaven? You called the Borough Hotel, looking for me, I presume?"

"Yes," she said. "Listen, I can't talk over the phone. Is there any way you could come in? It's…personal."

I checked my watch: just a little after ten o'clock in the morning. The bar wouldn't be open yet. It would just be me and her, and maybe the children, if I had pegged them right.

"Sure. I'm…just outside of town, at the moment. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

"Take your time," she said quickly. "Seventh Heaven won't open until I light up the sign."

"Good day, Ms. Lockheart." I heard her sharp intake of breath before I hung up the phone. I imagined her standing behind the bar, dead phone in hand, suddenly aware that she had agreed to meet alone with a stranger who knew her name.

Then again, if the receptionist at my crummy hotel knew who she was, it was likely that everyone on the Planet did as well. I decided it didn't matter as I picked up my helmet yet again. I would be going to Seventh Heaven a second time after all.

* * *

The Seventh Heaven I pulled up to at ten thirty in the morning was very different from the one I'd found less than twelve hours prior. I parked my bike as close to the bar as I could get it, keeping it out of the open space where it would have attracted attention. Lone vehicles were generally the ones that got stolen-that's why I had felt comfortable leaving my helmet out in the open last night. As I mounted the steps a second time, however, I kept it close by.

I pushed the door open with one hand and swept it all of the way to the wall. The bar appeared empty. I took one step in, then another, kicking the door shut behind me with a bang.

Footsteps sounded on the floorboards upstairs. I heard someone talking, but I couldn't make out the words. The steps started as a walk, then as a brisk jog as someone descended the stairs.

Tifa came to the bottom with a big smile on her face. The smile faded just a bit when she saw it was me.

"Oh, you're already here," she said. "I thought you said you were out of the city."

I shrugged, walking further into the bar. The shadowy corners were devoid of life; we were safely alone. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Tifa shook her head, then lowered her eyes. After a moment of standing like that, she went behind the bar. "Can I get you anything?"

"A glass of water?"

She smiled slightly. "You're in luck. You wouldn't know it by looking at the place, but Seventh Heaven's got the cleanest water supply in Edge, guaranteed."

"So I've heard," I said, accepting the glass she pushed at me. "I'm sorry I eavesdropped. It's an…old habit."

Tifa pulled up a stool behind the bar and sat across from me. "You say you used to work as a people finder?" she inquired.

I nodded. "That was a big part of it, yeah."

"But not all of it." I stared into my water glass.

"There are parts I used to be proud of," I said softly, "and parts I still am proud of. I have much to make up for."

"Your atonement."

"Correct."

Tifa didn't say anything for a few minutes. "You said that if I wanted to find someone, you might be able to help."

I nodded. "That was the general idea."

"So you meant it."

My mouth contorted viciously. "Are you calling me a liar?" _You are a liar_. I needed to get better at silencing my own thoughts.

Her face flushed. "Of course not."

"Who are you looking for, then?" I asked. "I can't find someone whose name I don't know."

She paused before getting up and heading upstairs. I waited, sensing I wasn't meant to follow. When she returned, she had something in her hand.

"This was taken when all of us were still a team," she said quietly. "It's been more than a year, though, and…"

"You didn't feel comfortable asking if any of them knew anything?"

Tifa pursed her lips. "From what I know," she spoke, sliding me the photograph to see, "they don't know any more than I do. Barret-the man I was talking to yesterday-he's made a few calls, and…" She trailed off, unable to complete her sentence. "I'm worried."

I picked up the photograph and scanned it. There was the black man, Barret, a red dog, a toy cat on a mechanical mog, a Wutain girl, a blonde man with pilot's goggles, and a tall man with red eyes; he, the demonic-looking one, I thought I might have recognized from somewhere. Then, of course, there was Tifa, standing next to a man with blond, spiky hair and a foul expression. It was a veritable rogue's gallery.

"Which one are you looking for?" I asked, sliding it back to her.

She tapped the spiky blond one with a finger. "Him," she said, smiling at his face. "Cloud. Cloud Strife." She stood up again. "Come upstairs for a moment?"

I followed her up the twisting steps, wincing with every creak in the floorboards. Upstairs, the rooms were close together and compact. I heard whispers from one room, then silence.

"Are they yours?" I asked, referring to the children.

Tifa didn't answer. She led me into a room with a highly technical map of Edge running along the main wall. "Cloud runs a business out of here: the Strife Delivery Service. He's been making deliveries all across the city ever since Edge's conception." She ran her fingers along the map. "I haven't moved anything in here, not since he's been gone."

"How long has he been missing?"

I turned to see Tifa holding her arm just below the Geostigma support ribbon. "He's been coming and going irregularly for some time now," she admitted, "but the longest he's ever been gone is a few days."

"Until now," I surmised. "How long?"

"Two months," she whispered. "Not a single word, no nothing…"

I looked down at the pitiful excuse for a work area and shut my eyes. "I'll find him for you," I said. "Shouldn't be too hard."

Tifa looked at me as if she couldn't believe I'd agreed. She thought of something all of a sudden and bit her lip. "What's your rate?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your fee. Would you rather I paid up front, or…?"

My shoulders sank. "That's not how I operate," I said quickly. "I'm not… No. There's no charge for my services. Only a favor."

"A favor?" she asked, suddenly as suspicious as she was when she felt cornered in the bar the night before.

"That's right. It's nothing big-but someone I know is one of your biggest fans."


	5. Chapter 5

Tifa brought my glass of water upstairs and then left me alone. I paced around the "office" of the Strife Delivery Service, thinking. Cloud Strife. I knew that name from before, but from where?

I sat down at the desk and looked at the picture, which Tifa had left sitting on the corner. Mako blue eyes. He must have been in contact with ShinRa, then, to get that kind of vibrant exposure. Had he been in SOLDIER? Outside of the Turks and the Executives, I had only really been acquainted with a couple of the SOLDIERs and one or two of the scientists.

The door creaked a bit, and I heard a light tapping noise.

"Ms. Lockheart?" I asked, distracted. "Can I help you?"

The door swung open just a little, then closed again.

"Um…"

I turned to see, not Tifa, but the young girl with the red ribbon in her hair. She was watching me as if she couldn't decide whether or not I was safe to be with.

"Oh. Hello there," I said, standing back up.

"Hi," the girl said. "Are you going to find Cloud?"

She certainly was direct. "Yes," I replied.

"Is he going to come home again?"

I pursed my lips. "I'll find him," I said.

The little girl didn't look satisfied. She walked into the room and peered at the desk, standing on her tiptoes to do so.

"I think I know why he went away," she said sadly.

"You do?" I asked. "And why is that?"

She put her hands together as if in prayer. "Because he couldn't find a cure," she replied, "for Denzel's sickness."

"Denzel?" I asked.

The little girl grabbed my hand and tugged. I obeyed, following her across the hallway. After knocking softly on a different door, the little girl opened it, then went around and pushed at my legs until I went in. Looking both directions, she closed the door behind her, then put a finger to her lips and said, "Ssshh."

I nodded. I was good at silence. The little girl led me over to a small bed where an equally small figure lay. I recognized the boy from the night before as the one the girl had been pulling from table to table. She lifted up his bangs and pulled off a damp, dark cloth. I noticed with disgust that it had once been white. The little girl got a clean one from a drawer and placed it where the dirty one had been. She patted his head as he groaned in pain. He didn't, however, wake up.

I put my hand on the little girl's shoulder and she looked up at me. Taking the dirty cloth in one hand, I led her out of the room with the other and shut the door behind me. I heard Tifa downstairs, humming a distinctive tune while she washed dishes.

"Aren't you afraid of getting sick?" the little girl asked quickly, snatching the cloth from me. "You should be more careful!"

I smiled down at her. "No, I'm not." _Of course I am; aren't you? _"Are you?"

She shook her head. "I don't think I can get sick," she said proudly. "That's what I'm going to make Denzel all better!" She nodded as if to confirm her own decision. "My name's Marlene. Don't worry, I'll take care of this," she said, holding the cloth. She wiped the residue off of my fingers before disappearing into the bathroom. When she returned, there was nothing in her hands.

"Denzel has been living with us for a little while now," Marlene said, following me back to Cloud's office. "He was an orphan."

"You're not related?" I asked.

"No. He used to live on top of the Plate, I think."

"And you?"

She smiled hugely. "Barret's my daddy," she said. "I've always lived with him and the rest of AVALANCHE."

"That's a hard life." She looked up at me, confused, as I stared at the floor. I forced a smile for her. Kids had always been another one of my weak spots. "Thanks for talking to me. I'm sure I'll be able to find Cloud for you."

Marlene nodded, then looked to the side. "Um, Miss?" she asked, fiddling with her dress. "There…might be another reason Cloud left."

"Marlene?" Tifa's voice rang up the stairs, and Marlene's head shot up. I heard the sound of the woman walking up the sorry excuse for a staircase. Marlene tried to make a break for it, but Tifa caught her first.

"There you are," Tifa scolded. "I've been looking for you." She glanced at me and held Marlene protectively with one arm. I knew the look well: it said, _Just because I need your services doesn't mean I trust you around my children_. Times really hadn't changed all that much.

"I'm sorry," Tifa said. "Come on, Marlene, let's get out of the nice lady's way."

Marlene pouted, but after one of Tifa's looks, she fell into line.

"Bye, nice lady!" she said, waving a little. Tifa ushered her into one of the other rooms and closed the door. Leaning on it, she breathed a heavy sigh.

I could have said any number of things to alleviate the burden on the young woman's shoulders. Words of comfort and reassurance were in my mind, but they failed to form coherent sentences.

I fell back on what I knew best: professionalism. "Ms. Lockheart?" My voice was crisp, as if there had been no interruption. "I will not take up any more of your time. I believe that I have more than enough information to find Mr. Strife for you." Tifa looked at me, a mixture of emotions on her face. "I'll be sure to call you as soon as I have any information pertaining to his whereabouts."

I took one last look around the room. I had taken pictures of the entire room before Marlene's intrusion, and I felt certain that I could recreate the place with the photos if I had need to.

"Thank you, Miss…?"

"Drake."

"Thank you, Miss Drake."

"Good day, Miss Lockheart."

"Until next time, then…"

* * *

Without a clear destination in mind, I had no choice but to go back to the hotel. The male receptionist was there, watching me as I came in.

"Good afternoon, Miss."

I smiled at him. "Thanks for your hard work. Play your cards right, and I'll be sure to get you that introduction you wanted."

His face was nearly orgasmic. "Oh…" he groaned. "Tifa Lockheart, _Tifa…_"

"Hey, keep it together," I said. "You mentioned before that you thought Tifa was some kind of hero."

The receptionist's eyes shone manically. "Oh, yes. She's very strong, you know."

"But you said she was part of a team, right?"

He nodded. "That's what I've heard."

"Do you know if a Cloud Strife was involved."

His eyes narrowed. "Oh, _Strife_. Oh, yes. He was…involved."

The sudden malice in his voice put me off guard. "What, was he on the wrong side or something?"

The receptionist sighed. "No, nothing like that." He paused. "He fought alongside her, or at least, that's how the rumors go. He lives with her now."

There was the problem, then: jealousy. There was no way to play off that without negative consequences, so I phrased my thoughts carefully. "You see, Tifa and Strife had a bit of a…falling out, as it were. Now he's gone ahead and run off."

The receptionist's eyes were on fire. "_Bastard_."

"My thoughts exactly. Tifa has hired me to find him and bring him back."

"She wants him _back?_"

"That's right, she does. She's agreed to do me a favor-and a large favor at that-if I can find him."

I leaned back from the counter and smiled sweetly as he put the pieces together in his mind. "Any favor?" he asked. I nodded, and he smiled. "Ah, I understand. Yes, yes, I think I know just the place… Those fellows know all of the-yes, yes..."

"I'm glad we've had this little chat. If you hear anything, you know how to reach me."

He nodded absently, already flipping through a phone book.

* * *

In the safety of my hotel room, I pulled out my cellphone and set it flat on the table. Praying that my access code still worked, I accessed the Worldwide Network. A hologram appeared, and I entered my name and password when prompted.

I heard a little bell breathed a sigh of relief. _I'm in_, I thought. _If ShinRa really thought I was a true traitor, they would have changed this years ago…_

I worked in haste in case there had been some mistake. I ran Cloud's name through the database and waited. When the search turned up its results, I couldn't contain my surprise.

"Son of a bitch…"

* * *

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! We've made it up to chapter five. I just wanted to give a little update here about the state of this story. I've thought about it, and the way this thing's running, there may well be romantic involvement coming up in the future. You don't have say anything now, but if you have a preference, based off of the interactions within the story, I'd be more than happy to hear them and take them into consideration.

So, as always, please R&R! I love to hear from you all, and I hope everyone's enjoying the show!


	6. Chapter 6

For some time after I closed my phone, I remained in a state of quiet shock. _That_ was where I remembered him from. It had been years ago, but I could still see it all in my mind as if I were still there.

I laid back on my bed and put my hands on my face. Here was the perfect opportunity to set things right, yet I had no idea how to go about it. I looked at the dust swirling in the light that streamed in through my window. What was I supposed to do?

I must have fallen asleep. Either that, or I simply lost track of time. No matter what the scenario was, when I next looked out the window, it was dark outside. I sat back up and groaned. All I could think of was what a mess I had become.

In the same guidebook that had told me to be sure to stop by Seventh Heaven for drinks and that, though not the best of hotels, the Borough was one of the best deals for its price, I remembered reading that Edge was a peculiar sight at night. I went to my window to ascertain its truth.

I found myself looking at, not Edge, but the military vans parked outside the hotel. If I had been sleepy before, I was suddenly alert. There were men down there with guns, and they were getting ready to come inside.

I crept downstairs from my room, pressing myself against a wall to stay in the shadows. I heard the male receptionist's voice, strained and tense.

"-tell you, there are no ShinRa supporters here!"

"Pipe down, we know what we were told. Who's staying here?"

"That's none of your concern-_ah_."

"I said, who is staying here?"

I peered around the corner at the bottom. A man in a uniform I didn't recognize had the receptionist at gunpoint while his backup paced the door.

"J-just a lone woman, an investigator! She was hired by…Tifa…L-Lockheart-!"

The soldier had the receptionist by his tie and was going to suffocate him if he wasn't careful. If he didn't let go, the man was going to die. "Don't lie to me. We know someone with connection to ShinRa is here. Where is the investigator?"

"Hey, boys," I said, stepping around the corner. "That's not playing nice, now, is it?"

"Is that a Turk uniform?"

"Catch her!"

The soldier by the door lunged at me, fists bared. I slid to the right, dodging an uppercut followed by a sucker punch. A wild swing from the left caught me off guard and slammed me into the desk. I kicked at the soldier's kneecaps as he went to grab my hair and something in his leg cracked. I took the opportunity to follow up with a blow below the belt. He doubled over in pain and collapsed on top of me, groaning in agony.

By the time I rolled him off, the receptionist was gone, as was the other soldier, apparently through the back door. The men outside, though, had heard the fight.

"In there!"

"We've got you surrounded!"

I slipped through the back door and went straight until I was looking out the maintenance entrance to the hotel. The building didn't _seem_ surrounded. I glanced around for the receptionist but couldn't find him.

"Fire!"

A sniper in a building across the street began shooting wildly. The bastard had poor aim, though, and, running in zigzags, I managed not to be hit. My back was screaming from hitting the desk a few moments ago, but I forced myself to run. I picked a side street that looked promising and followed it.

Dog were barking, men were shouting, and guns were reporting, but I heard all of it as if through water. It was something I was trained to do: distance yourself from the situation, plan it out, and then take action. Never panic. Panic means death.

The men chasing me had a distinct advantage: it was a city they had built, that they knew the layout of. I wasn't going to be able to lose them by taking random turns forever. I was going to have to hide and hope that they didn't find me.

Where to hide? I blew past garbage cans and kids with Geostigma, starling rats and splashing through puddles. I saw residences and shops, most of which were closed for the night. I'd be noticed immediately if I broke into one of those.

My breath was getting heavy. When had I gotten so out of shape? There was a time when I could have made the run without being the slightest bit winded. As it was, there was a horrible stitch in my side and I felt like throwing up. When had I last eaten? My stomach rumbled, and I kept running.

A left turn, then another right to put me on a parallel street. Still nowhere good to hide. Were those helicopter blades I was hearing, or was it my own breath? The dogs were definitely louder. I didn't dare look behind me.

Finally, after another wild turn, I was along a filthy row of warehouses. The door to one was open, and I slid inside, pulling it shut behind me. I couldn't get the lock closed, so rather than deal with it, I located the nearest pair of stairs and began taking them two or three at a time.

The stairs connected to a short hallway that lead to a glass supervisor's room. I ducked into the glass room and hid under a desk where I couldn't be seen from either the floor below or the door, pulling my knees in close. My heart pounded in my ears as I struggled to keep my breathing under control.

Voices from the street penetrated the glass and wood to reach my ears. They knew I was in one of the warehouses. I took a chance and rifled through the drawers of the desk, braving the wide open for just a moment. I was rewarded with a loaded handgun and three extra rounds.

"Now we're talking, mother fuckers," I muttered, holding the gun close. I slid back under the desk and waited.

After a short time, I heard someone tentatively mounting the stairs.

"All clear on the steps," someone reported. He moved cautiously, taking one step at a time, until I supposed he reached the door.

The soldier began firing at random. Bullets hit the desk, the walls, and the glass, splintering or shattering everything. I covered my ears and refused to scream.

When the shots stopped, I heard, "Warehouse Four is clear."

I counted to three, then pulled myself around the edge of the desk and fired twice, once at the stomach, once at the head. My aim was a little off and I caught him in the throat, but he went down regardless. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed his communicator.

"Jason, you all right?" I heard someone ask. No one said anything. I guessed Jason was the dead guy at my feet. Pissed, I kicked the guy's head for good measure. How the fuck was I supposed to do good deeds and all that when people still wanted to blow my ass off the face of the Planet?

I walked down the steps, holding the handgun with both hands while the communicator sat in my pocket. The door to the warehouse had been opened up again, and I crouched to one side of it, peering out into the darkness. I had decided that first things had to come first: I had to get back to the hotel and figure out the situation there. From there, no matter what I found, I would skip town and head to Kalm, lay low for a little while. I'd wait a week, maybe two, then come back and finish the job for Tifa.

The streets looked clear. All of the transmissions that came through on the communicator said the same thing: "she's not here".

I sighed with relief. Whoever they were, I had escaped with minimal damage. I stood to go back outside, but a gloved hand clamped over my face and another found its way to my hands. Screaming into the palm, I tried to shoot backwards, but my attacker pushed back and I ended up firing at the ceiling. I smelled something odd on the glove, but I couldn't force the hand away in time. My legs gave way, and I fell with my eyes shut.

* * *

I was surrounded by darkness. My body felt tingly and warm, like I'd been wrapped in warm towels fresh out of the dryer.

There were voices, muted and distant, that I strained to hear. All around me, the darkness began to fragment, coming apart in shreds like ripped fabric. Without the dark shroud, I could see a blinding whiteness that subsided and became merely bright.

Through the brightness, I made out a round table, and a few chairs, and then the rest of a kitchen. A little girl sat at the kitchen table, her legs too short to reach the ground. She was talking and laughing with a tall woman at the sink. The woman turned around and smiled at the little girl.

"Mother?" I called out.

Someone slapped me in the face, hard.

"I'm not your fucking mother, whore."

"Hey, boss said 'hands off'."

"Who gives a fuck? This isn't some regular chick; this here's a bona fide ShinRa bitch."

Someone slapped me again, from the other side. I could no longer see my mother's smiling face. Instead, I was aware that I was blindfolded. My hands and feet were bound to what felt like wooden posts. It took me an extra minute to realize I was tied to chair and incredibly hungry. My mouth wasn't gagged, so I tried to speak, but my voice was so hoarse that I couldn't make a sound. Immediately, I began to struggle. Someone laughed and slapped me again.

"Hey, this is _fun_," the man who called me a bitch said.

"I don't think this is a good idea," the other man said. "Boss said-"

"I don't _care_ what that guy says! I say he's with ShinRa, too! He damn well used to be." Someone fired a machine gun. "It's a fucking conspiracy, man! I'll bet you anything he let's this bitch go, and after all of the trouble we went to to catch her, after she killed our buddy!" I heard another round of machine gun fire. "Jason's dead, man!"

The other man didn't say anything, but someone else answered for him.

"You're dismissed."

The new man's voice was deep and cold. I heard metal clinking as something moved across the room.

"You…" the first man said.

"We'll just be going now," the other man said quickly. I heard a door open and close, and there was silence in the room. My heart was beating out of my ribcage. If I was going to be executed, I wanted it to be done with already.

"Are you badly hurt?" the man with the deep voice asked. He didn't sound close to me at all. I wondered how big of a room I was in. Once again, I tried to answer, but all that came out of my throat was a dull croak.

Someone strange moved in the room, something metallic and organic, and I heard the sound of running water off to my right. I was approached, and a glass was put to my lips.

"Drink," the deep-voiced man ordered. I complied, finishing off the entire glass. When he pulled it away, I was panting like a little kid. I cleared my throat experimentally.

"Thank you," I said. That had been part of the Turks Survival Handbook: never get on the bad side of your captors unless you understand their motives and can act accordingly.

"Are you unhurt?"

"…Yes."

The door opened and shut again. "How is she?" someone else asked.

"One of your men slapped her up, but otherwise she claims to be fine," the man with the deep voice responded. Someone walked around my chair and stood there for a moment before undoing my blindfold.

"My apologies. It's standard procedure."

I blinked ferociously, expecting to be met with harsh light. Instead, I was greeted by near darkness. A row of dim bulbs on the ceiling gave the room its only light. I could see someone standing in the darkness of the far corner of the room, just opposite of the only door, but I couldn't make out any distinguishing features. The man who untied my blindfold stepped back around and into my line of sight.

"Mr. Tuesti?" I asked. Of all of the people I expected to see, the most forgettable ex-ShinRa Executive was last on the list.

"You sound surprised," the man replied. I said nothing in response, my gaze caught between him and the person in the corner who I surmised to be the man with the deep voice.

Taking a chair from the side of the room, Reeve placed it about two meters in front of me and sat down. "Ms. Tanith Drake," he said, watching me, "are you aware that, by all accounts, you are a dead woman, killed by a man named Tseng two or three years ago?"

I forced my face into the most jaded sneer I could manage. I had a history with Reeve, albeit only through the Turks. With him, I was safe. "What, you can't tell me when I died? Pity, and I thought you were one of the bosses."

Reeve heaved a heavy sigh. "I would like to help you, Ms. Drake, but I cannot do that unless you help me."

"I doubt that. I mean, the part about you wanting to help me. The Urban Development branch never did get along with any of the others."

"So you admit to being a ShinRa operative?"

"You know as well as I do that I used to be one. Ex-ShinRa. What about you? The sons of bitches that stormed my hotel seem to believe in you about as much as they do me."

The aging ShinRa veteran said, "Those men are volunteer soldiers working for the World Regenesis Organization, a group I put together to rebuild the world without Mako technology or the further dismantlement of the Lifestream." He looked me square in the eyes. "Unless you cooperate with me, you will be tried in court for murder. You killed Jason Brine, did you not?"

"Technically he tried to kill me first, and he had a machine gun and lots of friends. I thought you were a pacifist, and here you are raising a civilian army? Hate to break it to you, but that sounds a lot like a company we both used to work for."

Reeve shut his eyes. "Ms. Drake, let's set all of these issues aside for a moment. I want to speak with you, insider to insider. Let's pretend, just for this moment, that it's just you and me here, having a civilized conversation. What do you say to that?"

I allowed my eyes to rest on the man wedged in the corner. "I can't say anything to that. It's not just the two of us. Look, I'm not with ShinRa anymore, so just let me go."

"Then why are you running around wearing the uniform? Old though it is, there are still many alive who would recognize it."

My faces flushed in the darkness. "It's a long story," I whispered.

Leaning forward, Reeve pleaded, "Please, Ms. Drake, I-"

"Reeve."

The man with the deep voice didn't move from the corner, but his command was strong enough to stop Reeve from even moving.

"I'll speak with her."

"I hardly think that's necessary," Reeve insisted.

"That's what you brought me here for, isn't it? Otherwise, I'm leaving."

Reeve thought for a moment before standing up, his eyes on the man in the corner. "That's true. You're right." He sighed before looking back at me. "Ms. Drake, I wish we could have met again under better circumstances. You understand, it was reported that you and your comrades were assassinated following the incident with Veld and Ziconiaide. If I had known…" He shook his head. "I'll be back whenever your finished. Don't leave her without one of us. Our men may be good, but they're out for blood," he said, addressing the man in the corner. With those words, he left the room.

Time passed slowly as I waited for something to happen. I moved my wrists experimentally, but it hurt too badly to pull: the knots were tied tightly.

"Aren't you going to come over here?" I asked finally, fed up. "Isn't that what you're here to do: interrogate?"

"Would you prefer I stayed here? We can hear each other perfectly fine at a distance, if that will make you more comfortable."

I understood, then: he was trying to make me feel comfortable, but why? I was tied to a chair, in pain, woozy, and a little sick. What was he trying to spare me? I thought for a moment before asking, "Would you at least come into the light? I'd like to see who I'm addressing."

When he moved, I heard the same curious noise that I had before when someone had gotten me water. I took it all in as he stepped into the light: the cloak, the pointed boots, the claw, and, of course, the red eyes.

"I recognize you," I said plainly. "Ms. Lockheart had a photograph-you two were in a team together?"

The man cocked his head slightly. "You could say that," he replied, sitting down in front of me.

"Thank you again," I said. He looked at me strangely. "For the water. And for sending the soldiers away."

"Reeve would rather you came to as little harm as possible."

"Yes, Mr. Tuesti said he wanted me to cooperate. What did he mean?"

The man replied slowly, "Reeve believes that President ShinRa is still alive. He wishes to contact him, but he doesn't know how."

"So he thinks I have an open link to the President." The man before me nodded. "But how did Mr. Tuesti find me in the first place?"

"Reeve's company shut down ShinRa's Worldwide Network some time ago. As an Executive, he believed that he could access all of the devices connected to the network and remove them. However, he must have missed a few, and when you accessed the Network, a user was detected and the signal traced to the Borough Hotel in Edge."

"So, my phone betrayed me," I joked.

"You accessed the networks as a Turk," he said simply. "It startled WRO into action. When Reeve saw you, he recognized you and brought you to his headquarters in Junon." He paused for a moment, though his lips continued moving as if talking to himself. Then he said, "You told Reeve you used to be affiliated with ShinRa."

"That's right. I'm an ex-Turk, though, not current Turk, if there are such things. I'm supposed to be dead." I laughed bitterly. Why was I spilling my guts to this stranger? I had a feeling I'd met him before, just like with Cloud. He reminded me of someone.

"…Ex-Turk?"

"A dead ex-Turk. It's a long story. We're in Junon? Are you even allowed to tell me that?"

The man in front of me shrugged. "Does it matter?" Once again, his lips moved but he vocalized nothing. Another minute passed before he said, "We were told that you were investigating something for Tifa Lockheart. Is that true?"

I nodded. "Yes, she's…looking for someone. She hired me to find him because no one she knew had any leads."

"I'm sorry I cannot be of any help there," he said. I couldn't tell if he was genuinely apologetic or just a good liar. "My only guess would have been the Forgotten City, but I know he's not there."

"Why would he be there?"

The man didn't respond right away. "The past," he said finally, "haunts him. Death follows him."

I nodded as if I understood, and the man stood up and headed for the door.

"I'll let Reeve know we're finished. He should let you go soon."

"Wait, just one more question."

He stopped. My brain was in overdrive, trying to remember everything at once.

"I met you before, didn't I? A few years ago. Where…was that?"

I didn't think he was going to answer. I wasn't sure I expected him to.

"The ShinRa Manor, Nibelheim. Nearly four years ago. …You were with Veld."

"Ah. That's right." He was watching me carefully for my reaction. "You said that you were in the basement because you had to atone for something." I thought for a moment. "You're not in there anymore. Does that mean you've found the solution?"

The man didn't answer.

"See, I'm looking for something, too."

"Forgiveness?"

"Maybe." I hung my head, feeling tired, hungry, and very foolish. The metal door opened and closed, and I was alone again.


	7. Chapter 7

To his credit, Reeve did quite a lot for me to compensate for the trouble he'd caused. He got me a WRO uniform and a fake name badge so that I could move freely around his headquarters without causing a fuss. He got me a shower, a few clean sets of civilian clothes, and some food. My motorcycle and phone were returned, though the Worldwide Network had been disconnected. He assured me that none of my belongings had been tampered with.

I wouldn't have believed him, had not the man with the deep voice been in possession of my belongings when I got them back. Irrationally as it was, I trusted him. He reminded me of Veld in his bearing.

Reeve told me that I couldn't be transported until nightfall. The unit who had come to get me wanted to see me dead, and he was having to burn through excuses fast to keep them from breaking down doors and giving me a street-style execution.

"As long as you're in the WRO uniform," Reeve told me, "you'll be safe. They won't gun down one of their own, no matter how much you look like the woman they captured."

We were on the top floor of his building in Junon, looking out over the water. "Why are you doing this for me?" I questioned. For all Reeve appeared harmless, I knew he had his share of tricks up his sleeve, and he was being a little too nice.

"You say you no longer have any ties to the ShinRa, fine. In that case, I'm doing it because you're trying to do the same thing I am."

"And what's that?"

"Atone. Find forgiveness for misdeeds. Undo the damage."

I turned that around in my mind, watching Reeve to see if he was lying. "And if I do have an in to the President?"

Reeve smiled. "Then I'm still doing the same thing. I've heard rumor that Rufus is still alive somewhere, that he's gathering allies." He shook his head and smiled. "Some of that is crazy talk, of course. No one would willingly go back to ShinRa now. But the intelligence I've gathered suggests that ShinRa played no small part in the construction of Edge."

I didn't like his smile. He was lying, trying to make me an ally by putting us on the same side, but I failed to see how that was going to benefit him in the long run. "How so?"

"The warehouses in Midgar that most of the supplies were taken from were passkey encoded. Only the President knew the emergency codes, and somehow they got opened. How?"

I shrugged. "Dumb luck?"

"No," Reeve insisted. "My people have seen glimpses of the Turks-Tseng, Elena, Reno, and Rude. They've been prowling old Midgar for some time. I know for a fact that they went up into the old ShinRa tower, looking for something." Reeve was watching me out of the corner of his eye. "If you did know where Rufus ShinRa was, would you help me find him?"

"No," I replied quickly.

"Why not? What if all I want to do is thank him?"

"I wouldn't help you with that even if I could."

"And why would that be?"

I pursed my lips. "You're asking a lot of questions for a man who claims to know all of the answers, Mr. Tuesti."

Reeve was affronted. "Pardon me?"

"What are you fishing for?"

He smiled at me in the way he had always done to the other Executives when he got caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. "Fishing? I don't know what you're talking about."

* * *

I was told that it was too risky to fly back to Edge. Reeve's organization only had a few working helicopters, and the absence of any of them would be sure to cause a stir. Instead, I was driven back in a large transport truck, and the man with the deep voice was sent along as a sort of escort. I sat back in the cargo area with him for the duration of the two-day ride. He wasn't a big talker, or so I gathered from two days of near complete silence. He kept a triple-barreled gun in the open and loaded at all times in case of an attack, and his eyes were ever vigilant. I wondered if he ever slept.

We couldn't have driven through the Mythril Mines now that they had been opened to miners again, so we took a path over the mountains. The road was bumpy and horribly kept, but it was passable. As we progressed, I kept my eyes peeled for something in particular and was not disappointed: though we passed it quickly, I caught a glimpse of the old, rusted gates to the ShinRa sanatorium. I wondered if that was where Geostigma patients were getting cared for. I knew the hospital was somewhere in the mountains.

Aside from thinking about the sanatorium, for two days I occupied myself by learning every inch of Cloud's study at Seventh Heaven from the pictures I'd taken. I spent most of my time studying the map. He had made several marks on the map annotating spots for reference. Most of them were marked in black ink, but one of them appeared to have been circled in pencil. It caught my interest because it was the only place that had been marked outside of Edge's city limits.

The driver had been told to drop the "cargo" off at Seventh Heaven. When we finally arrived, I wheeled my motorcycle out the back and pulled it up to the front of the bar. The man with the deep voice stretched his long arms and put the gun away.

"I wanted to thank you," I said to him, brushing myself off. "You pulled strings to get me out of there, didn't you?"

"_You!_"

A voice from the top of the stairs startled me. I looked up to see the male receptionist pointing at me from the top step.

"You-you're all right!" He came crashing down the stairs and stopped short in front of me. "Oh, I was worried…"

"Er, yeah, I'm fine…"

I looked to the side where the man with the deep voice once stood only to find that no one was there anymore. For someone who wore such an ostentatious cloak, he certainly knew how to hide. I could have learned something from that.

"What happened?" I asked the man in front of me. "Were you hurt?"

The receptionist shook his head. "No, not at all!" He told me about how, when the one soldier attacked me, he had managed to swipe the other's gun and run for Seventh Heaven, where Tifa smoothed things over for him. He admitted that he'd felt silly, running to the girl of his dreams for protection-but oh, don't tell her he said that…

It went on and on until I finally shut him up by asking, "Is Tifa there?"

"Yes, she is."

"Did you tell her about me?"

"What about you?" the receptionist asked, looking innocent. "I didn't want to spread any, ah, _rumors_."

I laughed and put my hand on his shoulder. "You know, you're a good man."

"I know." His face turned serious. "I only stepped out of the hotel for a few minutes to see if I could pluck up the courage to see her again. I should be going back. I'm waiting on a call."

I furrowed my brow. "You mean you didn't go in? Then how do you know she's in there?" The receptionist's face flushed and he pointed at the windows.

Just as quickly, the blush was gone. "Did they let you keep your phone?" he whispered, leaning in closer. I nodded, glancing around. "Then keep it on you. I may have a lead on Strife."

"All right. Call as soon as you know for sure."

He nodded and jogged across the street. I watched him until he was out of sight, then mounted the steps to Seventh Heaven for the third time.

Inside, Tifa was again washing dishes. The same look of hope I had seen before flickered across her face and died when she saw it was me, only to be replaced by one of shock.

"Oh!" she said, dropping the rag she'd been washing with. She walked around the bar and approached me. "I heard what happened at the hotel. Are you all right?"

"Of course," I replied, snaking past her to sit at the counter. "I wasn't in at the time. I heard what happened to the receptionist. He seems to have taken it well."

Tifa stood for a moment as if she hadn't registered my movement. Then, slowly, she returned to her place behind the bar.

"I heard," she spoke, staring over my right shoulder, "that they were tracing a ShinRa operative."

"I heard the same," I replied.

She bit her lip. "Was there one?"

"Maybe."

"Look, I'm sorry, Miss Drake, or whoever-"

"I don't know what you're apologizing for, and I don't want to," I said smoothly. "I'm not here because of the hotel, I'm here because I've got a lead. My assistant is currently double-checking the situation. He'll be calling shortly. When that happens, I'm going to go out and see for myself. I'll call you with the sure location."

I stood up and and walked to the door. I expected Tifa to say _something_ at the very least, but she didn't speak a word. With deliberate slowness, I pulled the door open. Shame was creeping up my cheeks and running through my bones. She knew what I was now. She didn't trust me, and she didn't want me going out looking for Cloud.

"You're wrong, Miss Lockheart," I spoke. "Whatever you believe, you're wrong."

She didn't answer me at all. I heard the clink of dishes, and I closed the door behind me for the final time.

* * *

The first thing I did after leaving Tifa's bar was to go out and buy a handgun and several rounds of ammunition. Then I went searching for sweets.

I was sitting in the pavilion in the center of Edge eating ice cream when the call came through. I'd intended to see the monument that had been erected there, and I'd found myself less than impressed. With its chains and rusted scrap metal, it looked more like the sad excuses for fishing wharves that were spread across Lower Junon than a testament to the strength of the Planet and the folly of ShinRa.

Sitting back in the little bistro chair outside the ice cream shop, I answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Miss, it's me."

"What have you found?"

"A couple of fellows saw a man with spiky blond hair and a bad attitude in the Midgar ruins, Sector Five, the old church. They said that they were scavenging for scraps when he tore through on a motorcycle."

"Right. I'll check it out."

"Miss?"

"Yes?"

He didn't say anything for a long moment. "This is the most fun I've had in years."

"That's nice. Is my room still open? Our deal only lasted four days, but I think this is going to take longer than that."

He laughed shortly. "Do you honestly think we have paying customers lined up on the sidewalk for rooms?"

"Right. Keep me posted on your end."

Hanging up, I finished my ice cream with a sigh. My encounter with Tifa had left a bad taste in my mouth, and not even sweet ice cream could wash away the bitter taste.

As I paid my bill, I seriously considered calling the WRO office in Junon and thanking Reeve for the civilian clothes. Now that I wasn't walking around wearing a Turk uniform, dated though it might have been, I was treated better. I didn't call, though, and I never did thank him. Once I returned to Sector Five, things began moving so quickly that I thought I was spinning.

* * *

The same feelings of dread and remorse that I'd felt the first time came over me again when I caught sight of the dead city of Midgar. I had somehow hoped that the vision I saw before me of a necropolis was only an illusion. No matter how horrible it was for the people underneath, I wanted to see the Plate again, and the ShinRa building, and the once-active Mako reactors.

But it wasn't an illusion, and the feeling of watching a corpse decay refused to pass no matter how long I stared at the bones of what once was a great city. I told myself that Midgar's death was for the better. People would have better lives without the Plate and the ShinRa. The world I once loved was better left in the past.

I rode out of Edge, passed through Sector Four, and rode into Sector Five without a fuss. I kept my new gun close to me at all times, watching for monsters or robbers. After the incident with WRO, I made a point to keep aware of my surroundings.

I parked my bike in the same place I had on my first visit to the rotting trash heap and began walking toward the church. As I walked in through the doors, I realized that it was the first time I'd ever been inside. I had been to the church before, but I'd never come in.

The smell of lilies wafted over me as I stepped across the aging floorboards. Most of the pews were worse for wear, and many of them looked like they wouldn't be able to support their own weight for too much longer. White and pale yellow flowers had sprouted all over the place, but the majority of them were blooming in the middle of the church where there was the most sunlight.

Off to the right, I could see a small trunk, a lantern, and some basic supplies. Kneeling down, I saw a dirty bandage laying on top of a photo. I picked up the bandage and turned it over in my hands. It had been used to wrap Geostigma, of that there was no doubt. I put it down quickly, but not before I saw the photo: Tifa, Marlene, Denzel, and Cloud, all standing together. Only Cloud wasn't smiling.

Outside the church, I dialed the number and waited. It rang four times before someone answered.

"Hello, Strife Delivery Service, you name it, we-"

"Miss Lockheart, it's me," I said, cutting her off. She fell silent. "I told you I'd find him, and I believe I have. Whenever you're ready, come to the old church in the Midgar ruins, Sector Five, on the far side by Sector Six."

I hung up rather than hear her answer. Closing my eyes, I leaned against the stones of the church and let the sun beat down on my face. I had come there before, on a job, very hush-hush, many, many years ago.

* * *

_Seven Years Ago_

It was spring when Veld told me that I had to report to President ShinRa's office for a special briefing. He patted me on the back, the sign of affection he always gave when he suspected that one of his Turks was going to get a thorough roasting, and sent me on my way with no description of what was to come.

I got in the elevator and crossed my fingers. What could it possibly be about? Banora had been razed a few months ago. It was possible that the President wanted to make sure that there were no hard feelings there, but that wasn't really his style, and, frankly, I didn't care about it. Then, maybe it was that I had taken part in the successful recruitment of a man by the name of Azul in Costa del Sol not a month prior; could it have something to do with him? I'd heard that he'd surpassed all expectations in terms of physical testing.

Then again, as I always did, I began to get worried. There were rumors in every department that the Turks were in trouble. Between the disappearance of two 1st Class SOLDIERS, Genesis and Angeal, the Mass SOLDIER Desertion Incident, the disappearance of one Dr. Hollander and a large quantity of his research, the intensification of the fighting with AVALANCHE, and the army of men who looked amazingly like Genesis attacking Midgar, ShinRa had its hands tied in more ways than one. Thus far, we, the Turks, had been only so successful in keeping the peace. I had been doing my best, but so had everyone else. What if my best wasn't good enough?

The doors to the elevator opened, and I began the long walk to President ShinRa's desk. I kept my gaze level and even, watching the man cooly and with forced detachment. When I had reached a respectful distance, I stopped, clicked my heels and nodded slightly, holding my hands behind my back.

"President ShinRa, sir."

"Ah, Tanith," President ShinRa greeted, leaning back in his chair. His beady little eyes looked me over with interest. "I'm glad you could make it."

He pulled out a cigar and lit it. "You've been working with Tseng on the Genesis problem," he said. "Is that right?"

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"As of right now," he said, "I'm pulling you from that project. Tseng can handle it on his own." I nodded, my heart beating in my chest. I was sure I was going to be fired in just a few moments. He had a file in his hand, and when he opened it, I saw my picture in the front. I resisted the urge to bite my lip. What was he doing with my personal file? I didn't see it as a good sign.

"Veld has told me a lot about you in his reports. He calls you the Serpent," the President said, "because, 'she lays in wait for her prey and strikes at the unwary foe'. Would you consider this a fair description of yourself?"

I didn't know what answer he was looking for, so I replied, "I wouldn't know, sir. I just try to do my job with the utmost efficiency."

He laughed heartily, then his face became serious. "Just yesterday, I assigned one of your colleagues an assignment. Do you know what it was?"

"No, sir," I replied honestly.

"Good, you wouldn't. It's top secret." He turned to the side and took another long puff on his cigar. "Cissnei is to keep the newest 1st Class SOLDIER under surveillance." His face darkened. "She is to do so without notifying Lazard and without making herself a disturbance." He turned his chair back toward me. "Do you trust your colleague, Tanith?"

"Of course I do, sir."

His eyes were dangerous. "If she were to prove untrustworthy, would you hesitate to strike her down in the name of ShinRa?"

"No, sir. I would not hesitate."

He sat back and nodded, hardly aware of my presence anymore. "Then it is done. I want you to keep Cissnei under constant surveillance. You will speak of this to no one. I want a report every week detailing her work, and one for each day she does anything off-color."

"I understand, sir. It will be done."

"Very good. If you see Veld, send him up here. Dismissed."


	8. Chapter 8

_Still Seven Years Ago_

I found both Veld and Cissnei at the Research Department QMC. She was outfitting her shuriken with new materia, and Veld was asking her questions she didn't seem to want to answer. When he saw me, he left her side and approached.

"How did it go?" he asked. I smiled at his concern. He thought of us as his children. It must have hurt him terribly to see Cissnei, the girl he had raised almost entirely by himself, brushing him off.

"As well as could be expected, I suppose," I replied, walking over to where Cissnei was selecting materia. "The President's in rare form today. I thought I was going to be fired from the way he was going off."

I had Cissnei's attention, and that was good. She listened in as Veld asked, "What happened?"

"It's the Genesis thing. Apparently I've been getting in Tseng's way." I kicked the table and leaned against it as if I were honestly pissed off. Veld put his hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it away. "Seriously? That Wutain son of a bitch gets in my way, not the other way around."

"Tseng's a good man, and a good Turk," Veld said seriously.

"Yeah, well he didn't want me to be a Turk, and now he's doing his damnedest to keep me out of his way," I shot back bitterly. "But, honestly, being reduced to _this_…"

Veld shook his head. "What's your job?"

"I'm a fucking delivery girl," I said, laughing. "He wants me running supplies like I'm some goddamned grunt."

Veld's face fell. "It'll be all right, Tanith," he said, rubbing my back reassuringly. "He'll come around. I'll talk to Tseng and get this cleaned up."

"Don't bother with it," I replied. "He won't budge."

"Tanith…"

I sighed and straightened myself up, pretending to notice Cissnei for the first time. "Oh, hey. Er, sorry about that…"

She shook her head. "It's all right," she replied softly. "I know exactly how you feel."

Smiling, I said, "Thanks, Cissnei. What have you been sent off to do? That's some hardcore materia right there."

She looked at the materia-filled shrunken and nodded. "I'm in the same boat as you, believe it or not. The President's sending me off to Wutai for recon. Now that the war's over, he wants to make sure that everything stays quiet. It's nothing special, but it's the boondocks out there."

I laughed at the lie and pretended to go along with it. "That sucks. I guess I won't be seeing you for a while, huh?"

Cissnei shook her head. "I guess not. You're running supplies here in Midgar?" I nodded, and she thought for a moment. "Well, yeah, I guess you're right."

"When do you leave?" Veld asked. I knew the look on his face well: two of his Turks had been given orders without having them run through him first. He wasn't a happy man at all.

"A few hours," Cissnei replied. "I'm just checking my supplies before I leave."

"Good luck, then," Veld said uneasily. He went to leave the room.

"Oh, the President wants to see you in his office," I called back without turning around. Veld paused momentarily, and, thanking me, left the building. From the last look I had seen on his face, I guessed he would have gone without my telling him to anyway. He had questions that only the President could answer.

"This is good-bye, then," I said to Cissnei.

Cissnei shrugged. "Only for a little while." She looked at the materia. "You know, I don't like this."

Somehow, I knew she wasn't talking about the rainbow glowing orbs. "Don't like what?" I questioned.

"It's just…what I'm supposed to do," she said, forming the words as if they hurt her mouth. "I've been given orders to keep close surveillance, but that's not my specialty, it's yours." She gave an awkward smile. "It's just, I wonder why they didn't give the job to you? You're better at it."

I blinked at her in disbelief. She was taking the "failure" I'd spun for myself and trying to rub it in my face, was she? Oh, I'd show her.

"Yeah, recon is my thing, but, the President's pissed. I'm not worried about it: you're a good stand-in. You'll do fine." I put on my sweetest smile. "I've got to go run supplies. I'll have an extra drink with the boys for you."

Her eyes showed her hurt even as she forced it away with a smile. "Thanks," she said. I waved good-bye without looking as I exited the QMC, feeling pretty good about myself.

* * *

I actually did transport supplies to the ShinRa troops for a few hours after I left Cissnei in the Research Department QMC. I drove truckload after truckload of guns, accessories, ammunition, materia, and medicine to the soldier's posts before I finally decided it was safe to start doing my real job.

When I had first joined the Turks, Reno had taken me out drinking with the others to celebrate. He'd challenged me to a drink-off, and we both ended up shit-faced and in deep trouble with Tseng. Possibly because he felt bad for getting the newbie in so much trouble on her first day, Reno taught me a handy trick with my phone.

After running the last set of supplies, I pulled out my phone and slipped off the back, just like Reno had taught me. Every ShinRa phone had a tracking device, and the location of any given employee could be known at any time by three people: the President, the Vice President, and the head of the employee's department. Reno had shown me how to disconnect the tracking device such that any or all of the feeds could be disrupted. That way, the employee could move around without a trace.

I located the minuscule chip and found the three colored indentations where the chip received the tracking signals. The President's was red, the Vice-President's was white, and Veld's was black. I filled in the black and white dots with a little bit of plastic, pushing to make sure they wouldn't come loose. Replacing the back cover, I slipped the phone into my pocket. The Vice President was on a long-term business trip, so I wouldn't catch hell from him, but Veld would be mad that he couldn't find me. I figured it was a small price to pay: he wouldn't be happy to learn I was trailing Cissnei, either.

Over the next few weeks, I followed her from place to place. I tracked her using a program I'd created that sent out a signal nearly identical to the President's tracking feed and would be accepted by her phone's terminal. Cissnei wasn't particularly interested in technology, nor was she particularly skilled when it came to manipulating it, but I assumed correctly that she, too, would be taking every possible precaution against being followed.

I discovered quickly that the SOLDIER she'd been assigned to keep under surveillance was a man named Zack Fair. He was a young man, strong and good-looking, with great potential. Cissnei did as she was told: she didn't make herself an obstacle, but she didn't make a whole lot of effort to keep herself hidden, either. She spoke with Fair from time to time, acting as if she just kept bumping into him. The effort at nonchalance was laughable, but the SOLDIER seemed to be buying it, so I couldn't complain. I sent in my reports every week without fail and received no word in response. Presumably, the President was happy.

Near the end of April, Fair came, rather by accident, to the church in Sector Five. Cissnei followed him there, and I in turn trailed her. I disguised myself as a local barmaid out for a smoke and caught sight of Cissnei up on the roof, watching her target through a hole in the ceiling. I used the tracking signal to take control of her phone's camera to see what was going on.

Fair was in the church speaking with a young woman. I recognized her from a file that was always open on Tseng's desk: she was supposed to be brought in to ShinRa as soon as possible. Her name was Aeris, if I remembered correctly, and my memory was always accurate.

From the phone feed, I heard something that sounded as if the wind was blowing hard. Looking up from my feed, I saw that Cissnei was standing in plain view on the roof, her shoulders shaking violently. It took me a full two minutes to realize that she was up there, staring down at the man and the woman, crying.

That night, I didn't hesitate. I sent President ShinRa a special report.

* * *

_Present Day_

I opened my eyes and blinked rapidly to adjust to the light again. My shoulders were stiff from leaning against the building. Stretching, I wondered how Cissnei was doing. The job with Zack Fair had changed her.

I walked back to my motorcycle and sat down without turning the key in the ignition. I'd helped Tifa find Cloud. Great. I still didn't feel any better about myself.

_Maybe… _I took out my phone and stared at it. Tseng had told me that, if I wanted to prove myself, I only needed give him a call. What if Tseng and Reeve had been telling the truth and Rufus ShinRa really did want to make amends? If that was the case, going to see him might be a good option. I could get direction there, maybe wipe some of my debt away.

I bit my lip and brought up Tseng's number. I put the phone to my ear and waited for the Wutain to answer.

But he didn't answer. The phone rang seven times with no response before cutting to the automated voice asking me to leave a message. I called again, then hung up after the fourth ring.

Pissed, I turned the key in the ignition so hard it nearly snapped. If he was going to screen my calls, that was his business, the bastard. He shouldn't have told me to call if he was just planning on ignoring me.

I started driving back to Edge, but as soon as I reached traffic, I knew that was a bad idea. I was too mad, and too erratic to deal with anyone. Instead of heading to the center of the city, I cut off quickly and made my way to the outskirts until I was in the wasteland surrounding both Midgar and Edge. I rode until I reached the eastern cliffs, then stopped in the shade.

The sun was high and hot. I propped my bike up against the rock wall and sank down beside it. From where I sat, only Edge was visible: Midgar was mostly hidden behind it. All I could see of it was the debauched, rotten ShinRa HQ, standing over all as it the building itself still insisted on presiding over world affairs.

My ringtone again startled me into action. I checked the ID and found it was Tseng.

Fuming again, I said, "You better not be screening my calls, you Wutain bastard. You're a real son of a-"

"I'm afraid Mr. Tseng is not available at the moment."

The voice on the other line gave me chills. "Who are you?" I asked. I ran the voice through my mind. It was a man's voice, and it was not entirely new to me. Where had I heard that voice before? "Where's Tseng?"

"Oh, you shouldn't worry about him," the man purred. "He's going to get what he deserves for tampering with Mother." I heard a strangled scream in the background. "Keep her quiet!" the man yelled, not into the phone.

"Who are you?" I asked again. I heard gunshots, then the sound of something breaking.

"We're just remnants," the man said, sounding forlorn. "Remnants of Mother's legacy." Someone was crying in the background. "Don't cry, Loz. Everything will be all right," the man said to someone else.

"As for you, Tanith Drake," the man said, spitting out my name as if venom could come with it, "this here says you're affiliated with ShinRa. Where's Mother?"

"What?"

"Don't lie, now, Tanith. You wouldn't want your friends to get…hurt."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to keep my voice even. What was going on? If Tseng was trying to freak me out, he was doing a damn good job of it. I had finally pinpointed the voice: he sounded remarkably like Sephiroth, but something was off.

"Pity. I guess we don't need you, then, do we?"

The line cut off, and I heard a dead tone. I could feel my pulse in my skull as I looked at the phone. In red letters, it read, "connection lost".

"Tseng?" I asked, as if he could hear me. "Tseng, what the hell are you doing?"

I stood up, still staring at my phone. The man who had spoken: who was he? I bit my lip and hit the rock cliff I was sitting under. Once upon a time, my memory had been perfect, even diabolic. Now I was out of shape and forgetful, as if I'd aged all at once.

Taking a deep breath, I thumbed through my contacts until I found what I was looking for. I held my phone to my ear and waited. One ring, two rings…

"Hello?"

I sighed in relief. "Reno?"

"He-ey, it's Tanith!" Reno said. Shouting to someone else, he said, "It's Tanith Drake, yo!" There was a pause. "She was our buddy! Remember that time- Oh, hey. Tanith, listen, you got to come up here, quick. Have you talked to Tseng?"

"That's what I'm calling about, Reno, I-"

"Great, yo! You know how to get here, then, right? Hey, boss, she's heard from Tseng!"

"No, I don't. Listen, Reno, I really need to talk-"

He laughed and said, "Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time when you get here. It's easy, really. Just take the pass over the mountains, right by the Mythril Mines. The path branches where the old sanatorium gates used to be-take the left until you see the sign for Healen Lodge. The sooner you get here the better, yo."

I was then hung up on again for the second time. _Karma_, I thought, seeing Tifa in my mind's eye, _is a real bitch_.

* * *

It only took about an hour to locate Healen Lodge and park outside. Through the entire ride, I wondered what, exactly, I was doing, running back to ShinRa. I could silence my thoughts only by thinking of the cryptic conversation I'd had with the man who'd taken Tseng's phone.

I didn't knock on the front door: I just walked in. Out of nowhere, Reno came flying at me, nightstick in hand. I ducked to my right and hooked him in the side, just below the armpit. My knuckles blossomed with pain, and I drew back as he stumbled to the side.

"That actually hurt, yo," he said. "I thought guns were more your thing."

There were footsteps behind me, and I lunged toward Reno as Rude brought down his fists where my head had been. Then Reno had me in a chokehold with the nightstick.

"Guys, guys, stop!" I shouted, stomping on Reno's foot. He let go, hopping, and I stood uneasily between both of the Turks, not knowing where to look. "I'm not looking for a fight."

"That's good. It doesn't look like you'd win if you were."

A wheelchair rolled out from the corner. Both Reno and Rude went to stand by the man in the chair, who was covered with a large white drape.

"President ShinRa? President ShinRa, sir." I shook my head, and my body moved of it's own accord: heel click, level gaze, hands behind the back, curt nod. It was as if I were back in the old ShinRa HQ.

"Easy, Tanith," Rufus said. "It's good to see you. And here I was beginning to think that you'd left us behind for good. When Tseng told me he'd met up with you, I have to admit, I was surprised. If you're going to rejoin our ranks, though it looks like you'll need to brush up on your skills. It seems your time off has softened your senses."

I fought the heat rising in my cheeks as I said, "One doesn't encounter too many fights when one is presumed dead twice, sir."

"Twice?" he asked. "Ah, you were in Mideel." He thought for a moment, and I thought he might apologize, but then he said, "You were lucky to have made it out alive. I hear the town bears much resemblance to your old hometown now. Is that right?"

I grit my teeth and replied, "Yes." I felt naked without my Turk uniform in the presence of my ex-colleagues. As I shifted, something metal moved in my jacket: my handgun. I looked squarely at the white sheet for the first time. What if I ended all of it? Rufus was responsible for the deaths of many, after all…

"Reno tells me that you've heard from Tseng. Is that true, Tanith?"

I glanced at the redhead. He looked hopeful. "In a fashion, sir," I replied dutifully. "As you were informed, he contacted me with the intent to bring me back into the fold."

"But you haven't spoken since then." There was a hint of impatience, and something else, in the President's voice.

"Actually, sir," I said, "I tried. What followed was…strange."

"How so?"

I told the men before me about the conversation I'd had before calling Reno. I watched Reno and Rude's faces as I did so. Neither of them looked happy, but Reno looked as if he were going to be sick. Rufus remained silent as I spoke.

"Boss, I-"

"Reno," Rufus said, silencing his Turk. The redhead balled his fists but stepped back into line. "Tanith," the President said, addressing me. "This information may prove invaluable. Thank you." I nodded my head. _This is how you feel most comfortable_, I thought to myself. _This is how you have always been: a follower, a subservient dog._ I wanted to kick myself but couldn't. When was I going to get it right?

"Where is Tseng, Mr. President? I have something to ask him."

"He's…away," Rufus replied, deliberately vague. "Will you be staying?"

The President's question caught me off guard.

"Pardon me, sir?"

He tapped his right index finger against his wheelchair. "Tseng never did mention what you'd decided to do," Rufus said. "Whether you would join or back out."

My eyes flickered between the three men. "I'll not be staying, no," I said softly, taking an imperceptible step backward. "I'm afraid I have…business to attend to in Edge. I'm expected back tonight."

"Tanith," Rufus said. "Tanith, Tanith. What ever are we going to do with you? Don't tell me you've gone all the way soft. Was it something Reeve said?"

My blood froze. "Excuse me?"

"Come, now. You didn't think no one would have noticed the little incident in the hotel, did you?" The President's tone was full of mockery. "A source in Junon informed Tseng not long before he left that you'd been captured by an organization founded by our old friend Reeve Tuesti on account of your affiliation with ShinRa. He must have recognized you, otherwise he never would have allowed you to leave. Tell me, did he say anything?"

I bit back a torrent of words. "He wanted me to find you," I said, my mind racing in all directions, "and put you in contact with him. He didn't say why."

"And?"

I shut my eyes. "I told him I wouldn't do it."

"Why not?"

Behind my back, my hands were in fists. "Mr. Tuesti has…changed, sir," I said, settling on the truth and praying it didn't get me killed. "He has an army at his disposal, and he isn't afraid to use it. He's not the man he used to be."

Rufus laughed: it was a hollow, mirthless sound, the laugh of a man who had been so close to the brink of death that he carried death on his shoulders in a shroud. "And what was he, Tanith? Do you think you know?"

I wouldn't speak. My tongue was made of lead and my mouth of granite.

"I regret to inform you that Reeve is the same man he used to be," Rufus said, tapping his finger again, the click of his fingernails against the metal nearly maddening. I noticed, though, that there was dirt under his nails. His boots needed polishing. The hems of his pants had seen far better days. Even in his darkest hour, I never imagined Rufus ShinRa could possibly be tarnished.

"He is," Rufus was saying, "as he was: a spy, a coward, and a traitor."

_Spy. Coward. Traitor_. I turned on my heels and walked toward the door.

"Wait, Tanith." The President's voice was grave. "I meant no…offense."

"I might have believed that," I seethed, "if I thought it was Mr. Tuesti you were talking about."

I walked down the stairs to Healen Lodge. Behind me, I heard the President ask, quite loudly, "Was it something I said?"


	9. Chapter 9

By the time I got back to Edge, my anger had burned off and night had fallen. Crows were calling to each other across the wasteland, looking for the last meal of the day. I sped back to the city, eager to be rid of their shrill cries.

I paid the receptionist for another few nights' stay and unloaded my new belongings into my room. I wanted to hang my new clothes in the closet, but I remembered why I had barricaded the closet door in the first place and thought better of it. Instead, I placed the neatly folded pile on the desk next to the window and went downstairs.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"No. Well, yes. Are you hungry?"

"If you're asking if I've eaten yet, the answer is no."

"Good. Where can we get something to eat? I'm starving."

He laughed. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Most reasonable establishments are closed."

I made a face. "Who said anything about reasonability? I'm talking about food. And maybe a few drinks. Come on, I'll pay."

The receptionist stood up and straightened his tie. "That's hardly necessary. I know a good place just down the block. You like Southern food?"

"I was born in the South," I replied snottily, "but I like it well enough."

The receptionist grabbed his jacket and locked up. "Wouldn't want any unwanted intruders, now, would we?"

I laughed at him and held his arm, and the two of us walked together down the street in the darkness.

* * *

The restaurant was full, but the receptionist knew the manager, and, after explaining that I was a "special friend", we were able to get a table.

"Are you starting to feel better?"

Between the two of us, the receptionist and I had consumed four appetizers, three entrées, seven bottles of LOVELESS beer, and two desserts. It was two o'clock in the morning, and people were still streaming in the front door, looking for food and a good time. I had noticed that many of them were off-duty WRO officers-I could tell from their slouched uniforms and heavy drinking.

"Yes," I replied. "I think I'll survive."

"So," the receptionist said, "now that we've both consumed enough food for twice the number of people, perhaps it's time we actually had some dinner conversation." He said that with such a serious face I could hardly keep from laughing.

"Whatever you say," I replied. The receptionist leaned over. He never once put his elbows on the table. "Where do you want to start?"

He shrugged and, with a sly look on his face, said, "Well, it couldn't hurt to know each other's names, could it?"

I laughed. "Fair enough. They call me Tanith Drake."

"Tanith," the receptionist said. "Who's 'they'?"

"Well, in the past, 'they' were my primary employer. Now 'they' are pretty much everyone," I answered honestly. I felt beer buzzing at my fingertips and I struggled to remember the last time I'd been out drinking with someone and just having a good time.

"That's not your real name, then."

"No, but it's the only one I'll answer to. What about you?"

The receptionist seemed satisfied. "Well, I'm called Felix Kester."

"Not your real name either?"

"No. I think we have a similar situation, you and I."

I watched the receptionist from across the table. "Did you work for ShinRa?"

Felix laughed. "Everyone worked for ShinRa in one way or another. I worked as a bookkeeper with a small firm that got bought out by ShinRa. I was kept on because I was good at keeping track of the cash. What about you?"

"Like you said, everyone worked for ShinRa. I was on the recruiting end," I said honestly, avoiding any mention of the actual branch. "I helped bring in new members."

His eyes were fully fixed on me. "Kind of like the Turks?"

I decided to bend the question. "Yeah, but the Turks always recruited their own members separate from everyone else. I dealt with the rest of it: regular army commission, that sort of thing." That was all true: I had been on panels to select commissioned officers and to judge rank. It just hadn't been my primary function.

"Huh. That must have been a thankless job."

I shrugged. "It had its ups and downs. It sounds like you weren't exactly having a great time yourself, though."

"It was good for me. I've always been better with ledgers than people."

Thinking for a moment, I asked, "What branch were you with?" Felix cocked his head to one side. "Oh, come on. Everyone was affiliated with a branch, whether they knew it or not. Which were you?"

"Urban development."

"That's a real bummer," I said. "The department with the least funding-after Space Development, of course."

Felix nodded. "We were always strapped for cash. Made my job way harder than it needed to be." He caught sight of the waiter and pulled out his wallet. "I've got this one."

"We'll split it, fifty-fifty," I said, reaching over.

"All right, if you insist."

The waiter took both of our cards to ring up the bill. When he returned, Felix and I grabbed our coats and left. As we walked back to the hotel, I thought of something.

"Hey, Felix. I meant to ask you." He made a little noise that told me he was listening. "When I got out of the back of the truck at Seventh Heaven this morning, there was someone with me. Who was it?"

"Oh, him? Vincent Valentine. I thought everyone knew him. He's old friends with Mr. Tuesti. I know him from-"

The look of panic on Felix's face was palpable. "From where? What's wrong?" I asked.

He laughed a little, shrugging off my concern. "Oh, sorry, I thought I saw something. Just the late hour, playing tricks on my mind. I'm fine. What was I saying? Oh, yes. I know him from the stories about fighting Sephiroth. He was on the same team as Tifa."

Felix didn't say Tifa's name with the usual love and care that he had in the past. I didn't say anything, but the change to a more neutral tone bothered me.

When we got back to the Borough, Felix walked me upstairs. "What, your room doesn't have sheets?" he asked. "Did I forget to make up the beds?"

"Er, yeah, it does have sheets. I just…stripped the bed, that's all."

He eyed me curiously. "Well, this is good night, then. Do you need a hand with anything?"

"No, I don't, thank you. Be careful going home."

"Home?" He laughed. "Don't be silly, I am home. I live in the back room."

I nodded briefly, remembering the room I ran through to escape the hotel when WRO attacked. "Oh, right. Of course. Well, then, sleep well."

He smiled at me before I shut my door. The clock on the nightstand told me that it was nearly three o'clock in the morning. I pulled off my clothes until I was only left with undergarments and collapsed on top of the bed. Shivering in the night air, I fell asleep and had dreams that I couldn't remember when I woke up.


	10. Chapter 10

"Felix?"

My voice rang through the empty hotel, ricocheting off of the walls to come back to me.

"Felix Kester?"

After last night's-or, rather, that morning's-fun at the restaurant, I wanted to thank him, but he was nowhere in sight. I pulled my hair back, wishing I could find someplace with clean enough water to take another shower, and walked around the main lobby.

I spotted a note sloppily tacked to the reception desk. Walking over, I saw that it was addressed to me.

_"Miss D.-_

_Sorry I can't see you this morning. Running errands. See you soon._

_Yours, F.K._

_P.S. - I hope you had as much fun last night as I did."_

I rolled my eyes and tore off the note. He struck me as a sweet guy, really. I turned to leave, going over my day's plan in my mind. I was going to call Reno and find out what was going on with Tseng while making it clear that I had no intention of rejoining the Turks. I wanted to make sure that my old colleague was safe, that's all. Depending on where that went, I would also call Tifa and see how she was doing. I felt bad about blowing her off.

All of those thoughts disappeared when my eyes ran over the door to the back room. It was slightly ajar, and there were no lights on within. Felix obviously hadn't been careful; all of his belongings were in there. With a frown, I approached the door with the intent to lock it.

I couldn't resist a peek, though, curse my old job. _Once a spy, always a spy_. I pushed the door open and flicked on a light switch.

I made no noise and no sudden moves. As a matter of fact, I don't think I moved at all for about a minute after I hit the lights. There was too much to soak in, too much to see: using any sense other than eyesight would have been a distraction.

When I finally did move, I sat down at the desk and began flipping through papers. Everything was there. _Everything_.

There was my confidential file from ShinRa, when I was a Turk. There was my application to join the Turks. There was the report of my execution. Photographs, audio clips-even a digitalized model of myself.

Then there was the computer and a log of the past few days. Report after report, detailing my comings and goings-all signed Felix Kester. And who, of course, had they been sent to? Then there was a single email with a single set of coordinates, sent to an address I didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

I stood, very slowly, and walked to the door to the lobby. A man with very long, silver hair was pacing circles on the wood floors.

"Is anyone here?"

I recognized the voice. It sounded like the man who had been on Tseng's phone. This man's tone was more effeminate, though. I nearly laughed when I thought that he sounded a little bit like Rufus when he had been younger.

The intruder was going to find me anyway if I didn't do something. I stepped out of the back room and into the lobby. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, rubbing my head. I stood behind the receptionist's desk, acting like I was still getting dressed. "I didn't realize- You see, it's my boyfriend's place." I forced a blush onto my face. "I thought he'd locked up."

The man with the silver hair leaned over the desk and peered at me. "Have we met?"

My eyes went wide. "Oh, no! I would remember meeting you! I-I mean, nothing against my boyfriend or anything, but you're- Oh, well, I, uh… No. I don't think we've met." I leaned over the counter until I was dangerously close to his face. "But I'd _like_ to."

He leaned back, scoffing at me. I probably smelled bad again, seeing as I couldn't brush my teeth after eating all of that Southern food. I drew back, too, acting offended.

"My brothers and I have found a cure for Geostigma," he said. "We're taking patients up to our facility in a few hours. There's a truck at the corner of Avenue X and Cicero. We're taking patients by priority, children having precedence." He smiled at me, but not with his eyes. "If you know anyone who would benefit from our treatment, please send them by."

I watched him leave, his black coat swirling behind him as if it had a life of its own. I leaned back against the wall and heaved a heavy sigh. _Disaster averted_.

Moving quickly, I returned to Felix's workspace. Sliding the back off of my phone, I checked the tracking terminals. Sure enough, another one had been installed, right next to Veld's old one. This one was painted green. I fashioned a plastic plug out of the end of a rubber band I found and shoved the case back on.

"Signal lost."

My eyes moved to the computer screen. My face was there, as well as the red, flashing words that the computer had just spoken. The old tricks still worked.

I burned all of the papers next to the dumpster behind the hotel while my cellphone uploaded all of the reports Felix had sent during my stay at the Borough, including the mysterious coordinates. Once both processes were done, I smashed the computer screens. When I was finished with that room, all of the information about me was gone.

I packed up my clothes and loaded them into the little basket on the motorcycle. It no longer mattered where I was going, only that I went. I stopped only to get gas and drove straight out of Edge and back into the old ruins of Midgar.

When I finally came to a halt, I had reached the old Sector Zero. The remains of the Plate hung above me, barely supporting itself. Above that was the tattered remains of ShinRa HQ.

It was a silly thing, really. I had always believed that ShinRa HQ was impregnable and that everything in it was safe. I remembered joining the Turks and laughed at myself. When I had filled out the application after being contacted by Veld, I had known a few very simple facts.

The world was harsh. The world was cruel. The land didn't want to support you; the Planet didn't even want people in the first place. It was every man or woman for themselves. Your friends were the people you paid, and even then they could still turn on you. Idealists were dangerous, as was everyone else.

The solution to the problem? That was simple, of course. Be ruthless. Be cold. Be dogged, determined, clever, and quick, but never cruel. The Turks could offer you all of those things. You couldn't be fired, you couldn't be touched. Do the job right and you'd be in for the rest of your life. The Turks were a family, an association, and a promise: in a world where every man had to fend for himself, the select few who saw the master plan could play the strings, and, sticking together, endure.

I dialed the number I'd intended to call this morning. It rang three times before someone picked up.

"Tanith?" Reno's voice was guarded.

"Reno, listen. We have to talk. Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah, but not over the phone. Are you in Edge?"

"Close enough. Midgar, Sector Zero, ground level. Can you meet me here?"

"It'll be me and Rude. Stay put and don't talk to anyone." I laughed, but he said, "This is serious, Tanith. You're not the only one who's got something to talk about, yo."

* * *

It was only a few minutes before I heard the whir of helicopter blades. The chopper still had ShinRa decals on it, though they looked worse for wear. The thing had obviously seen gunfire recently.

The engines were killed and Reno and Rude hopped out of the pilot's seats.

"Tanith," Reno said over the noise of the still-spinning blades. "Lookin' good." Rude nodded as I ran over to them.

"Reno, Rude. We've got to talk. Where's the President? Reeve was trailing me, the son of a bitch. Healen's probably been compromised."

"Those guys were WRO, then?" Rude asked.

"I don't think so, Rude." Reno looked to one side, then said to me, "We don't know where the President is. He's been taken."

"Someone from WRO kidnapped the President?"

Reno shook his head. "He was taken by the same son of a bitch that killed Tseng and Elena! If those are Reeve's people, they're going down!"

"Reno."

Reno looked to Rude, then to me. My breath had hitched. "Tseng," I said. "He's…dead?"

Reno and Rude exchanged a glance. The dark-skinned man said, "Boss had sent them to the Northern Crater to get something important, and Tseng and Elena got ambushed. They beat us like we were nothing."

"Yeah, yo. One of the men who attacked came up here for the President. He must have followed you in somehow, 'cause Tseng and Elena would never talk. We thought at first that you'd brought them there, but…" He looked at me critically. "You can't fake that kind of shock. Anyway, he was some guy with silver hair, black coat. Called himself Kadaj, talked about the Reunion and Mother. He had Tseng's phone and ID; Elena's, too. It's like Sephiroth all over again."

I shut my eyes and flashed back to a few hours before. "I met a man like that earlier today. Long silver hair, mako eyes, black coat." I pulled out my phone. "Does this set of coordinates mean anything to you?"

"Yeah, that's Healen. What happened?"

"I'm not sure. One of Reeve's men was tracking me and sent it to an address I didn't recognize. That's probably how they got the President."

"The man you met today," Rude interjected. "What was he looking for?"

"He claimed that he and his brothers had a cure for Geostigma. They were going to take a load of infected kids to their hospital. He said that there was a truck waiting at Avenue X and Cicero."

"Right. Are you coming with us?"

I felt both Reno and Rude watching me. I bit my lip, then said, "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

We landed the helicopter on top of an unfinished building near the center of the city. I had changed clothes during the ride: if I was going to be running with the Turks, I thought I might as well look like one. My motorcycle and alternate clothing tucked safely in the back, the three of us descended to ground level and started running.

The corner at Avenue X and Cicero wasn't far from where we had landed, but it was already too late. The truck was gone, but plenty of people were milling around, talking about the strange men with the silver hair who had taken a bunch of orphans with them.

"Where were they headed?" I asked desperately. My phone rang once and I ignored it.

"We don't know," a bystander said, glancing nervously at Rude. I, too, glanced at the other Turk: he had always reveled in fear, but now was not the time. "They didn't say where they were headed, only that the kids would be cured."

I turned away. "This is useless. We'll never catch them this way," I said. My phone rang again.

"Who is it, yo?"

I picked it up. "Hello?" I asked snappily.

"Is this Tanith Drake?"

The blood must have drained from my face because Reno and Rude looked worried.

"Tanith, who is it, yo?" I held up a finger for Reno to be quiet.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"There's someone who wants to speak to you, Tanith," the man who'd killed Tseng said.

The phone changed hands, and I heard, "Um, Miss?"

"Marlene?" I asked. Fury was boiling in my chest. Reno and Rude were trying to talk to me, but I could barely hear them. "What's going on?"

"Please, you have to help Tifa, I-" Marlene screamed. "Stop it, stop it!" The phone's signal cut in and out, then I heard, "She went to get Cloud where you told her to go but he wasn't there and she got hurt- Please help Tifa."

"I promise," I said. "I promise I'll help her."

"Well, then," the man said, having taken the phone back. "Looks like you've got an extra message."

"What's going on? Who are you?"

"I already told you: I'm a remnant." He laughed. "Now, I'd told the girl to give you a message, but lately you have to do everything yourself. If you want to see your President again, I suggest you do as I say.

"We've taken the children to the Forgotten City. Find our big brother and send him here."

"Big brother?" I asked.

"Oh, you know. The man this little girl here," he said, "wanted you to find. I believe he's called Cloud. Bring him to me, or the girl and the President die."

* * *

Reno and Rude flew the three of us back to old Midgar at my behest. I explained what had happened on the phone on the way.

"We have to help the President," Reno said. Rude nodded in agreement. "If that means we have to get Spiky to the Forgotten City, we'll do it."

"I want to make myself clear," I retorted. "I'm not doing this for the President, I'm doing it for the kid."

"We don't care why you're doing it," Reno shot back. "In the Turks, reasons never mattered. All that counted was that you did the job. Don't you remember, Tanith?" I averted my eyes. "Now, what do you think's going to be able to help us in Midgar?"

"Cloud has apparently been keeping to the old Sector Five church," I said. "Miss Lockheart-Tifa-hired me to find him."

"You think she'll still be there?" Rude questioned.

"We'll find out."

We landed the helicopter just within Sector Three and hiked across the dead slums until we came to the church.

I went in first, handgun out in the open. "Hello?" I called tentatively, taking a step in. There was a large dark spot on top of the flowers that I mistook for a monster. I nearly fired, but then I heard a groan.

I took a few more steps inside. From there, I could see that the blob was no animal-it was a person. Gesturing for Reno and Rude to follow me in, I ran to the person's side.

As it happened, it wasn't one person: it was two.

"That's him," Rude said simply.

"Cloud _and_ Tifa. Looks like you can keep your promise to that kid and help us save the President, both at the same time, yo."

* * *

Tifa was fairly well beat up. She'd suffered extensive bruising, and a strong surge of electricity had damaged the tissue in one of her arms tremendously. She would be in horrible pain when she woke up.

Cloud, on the other hand, was arguably in worse shape. As I had feared, he had Geostigma. It wasn't just a small patch, like Denzel's, however. The black goo oozed from his shoulder down the majority of his arm like a demonic sleeve. It was a miracle he wasn't dead yet.

Reno and Rude dragged the pair inside and, at my request, checked everywhere for Denzel. He was nowhere to be found. I waited on the street as a lookout in case anyone came looking for trouble while the Turks tried to bring Cloud around. While I waited, I called a number I had never used before.

"I was afraid that I was going to hear from you."

Keep my voice low, I said, "You miserable son of a bitch. You knew I wouldn't cooperate so you had me tracked?"

Reeve said, "Tanith, listen, you don't know the full story. We had to do it."

"Right, like you had to send your boys after me. How long did you have Felix?"

A heavy sigh came across the line. "From the start. We pulled him out of the security department so no one would recognize him. How did you find out? I can explain, Tanith. Can we meet?"

"I'm a little busy. I wouldn't have known if your agent hadn't left the door standing wide open. It takes skill to make a move that dumb. Start talking."

"Have it your way. When I heard rumor that Rufus was still alive, I was horrified. If ShinRa rose to power again, everything we did for the world would be undone."

"You say that like you actually took part," I sneered.

"But I did. I turned traitor, and I'm proud to admit it. I controlled an automated toy, first to infiltrate Cloud's group, then to fight Sephiroth."

I thought back to the picture Tifa had once showed me. "The cat riding the mog?" I asked.

He laughed. "Yes. Cait Sith, I was, and still am, called. But that's beside the point. I had to get to Rufus first, before anyone else did. He could be used as leverage against the Turks, who I knew would still be loyal. After all, he had saved your lives with his little stunt all those years ago."

Biting back a retort, I asked, "You knew?"

"Of course I knew. I was an Executive, for Gaia's sake. Rufus thought he was covering his tracks perfectly, but I knew. Scarlet did, too. She wanted to obliterate all of you. How else do you think some of the more extreme weapons-Proud Clod, for example, if you heard about that mess-came into production? That woman was a master at blackmail."

"Did anyone else know?"

"About you all being alive? I don't think so." He fell silent for a short moment. "But, back to the matter at hand. Yuffie Kisaragi and Vincent Valentine helped evacuate Midgar in the aftermath of Meteor, and both of them reported seeing a man in a white suit being taken into an ambulance by men who looked like the Turks. That was my first chance, but I missed it. From then on, I was just looking for openings. The sooner I could talk to Rufus, the better off we would be."

"Why? I still don't follow your reasoning."

"The world cannot be rebuilt without money," Reeve shot back angrily. "Without the money to buy uniforms, guns, ammunition, you name it, we could do nothing. Rufus has all of the security codes, all of the money, all of the resources at his fingertips. Without him we can only do what we've been doing-scavenging for scraps in a dead city." His laugh was mirthless and colder than Rufus's had been. The President was wrong: Reeve _had_ changed.

"When you popped up on the radar, I couldn't believe my luck. You know, when you first showed up in Edge and came to Seventh Heaven, you stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing that damn Turk uniform. One of my men reported to me where you were going, and I sent Felix off to your hotel of choice. Of course, he couldn't get there until the next morning."

"What about the other receptionist?" I questioned. "The woman."

"Relax. She's in Costa del Sol, enjoying a little sunshine and fresh air in a very nice apartment paid for by…you, as a matter of fact. You certainly were willing to pay an exorbitant amount for a dingy hotel room. I can give you her number, if you'd like."

"She didn't look well when last I saw her," I said. "Are you lying, Mr. Tuesti?"

"Still with the 'Mr. Tuesti'. No, I am not lying. She had been evicted from her home and had been robbed of most of her retirement. She's fine, Tanith. I swear it."

I took a deep breath and Reeve continued talking. "Felix works for me, yes. At first, I wanted him to just watch you to see if Rufus was planning something. There have been disturbances, disappearances-worrying occurrences that reminded me of ShinRa's doing. The more I watched, though, the more I saw that you lacked the direction of a Turk-you were just a loose cannon.

"It wasn't until you accessed the Worldwide Network looking for Cloud that I began to take you seriously. You had come across something, and I didn't know what it was. That frightened me, Tanith. I had to bring you in to make sure."

"To make sure that I wasn't what?" I demanded.

"That you weren't planning on assassinating Cloud Strife," Reeve said honestly. "That was my first thought.

"But then there was Valentine. He didn't want to see a fellow ex-Turk killed without reason. He wouldn't come anywhere near the WRO HQ until I told him exactly who you were and what you were doing. He wanted to protect you, good man."

"Did he know about the tracking chip?"

"No." Reeve sounded like he was telling the truth. "He didn't know about that. He wanted you turned loose, no strings attached. But I couldn't do that, Tanith. Not when there was so much to gain. I'm sorry. I never meant to make an enemy out of you."

"No, you're not sorry," I said. The pieces were flying together in my mind. "One of Sephiroth's remnants came looking for Felix this morning. Why do you think that would happen?"

"What?" Reeve asked, aghast. "There are still remnants around?"

"A group of remnants has kidnapped President ShinRa. You know what I think?" I had to fight to keep my voice under control. "I think your boy sold everyone out. He used the trace you put on me and sold the President's location. Do you even know where he is now?"

Reeve's voice was strangled. "No, that's not…" He shouted something at someone else. "Listen, Tanith, we haven't been able to contact Felix since early this morning. These remnants… Are they dangerous?"

"…They've killed Tseng and Elena," I breathed. "They're threatening to kill more if we don't comply with their demands."

Reeve muttered something that sounded a lot like, "Gaia help us all."

* * *

Author's Note: Well, we've made it to chapter ten, at long last. I've gone back and fixed all of the little typographical and stylistic errors (including the rogue "insert break" in chapter nine-sorry guys!) so that there aren't any stray marks. I've been doing this on the fly and without a beta, so please forgive all of the errors.

As usual, I would love to hear from you guys. Thanks so much for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

I had heard stories about the forest surrounding the Forgotten City to the north, but I had never imagined it would be so eerie. When I was a Turk, I had once been sent to patrol the outskirts on a mission, but I had never actually been inside.

The bark of every tree was pure, unadulterated white, and, in the moonlight, the branches seemed to glow. Because of the northern climate, the trees were without leaves, and I could see the night sky. The pollution caused by ShinRa's mako reactors blocked out most of the stars across the central band of the Planet, but here, closer to the pole, I could see the constellations I had been taught as a child in Banora once more.

* * *

When Cloud and Tifa had woken up, they, along with Reno and Rude, had come to a conclusion: Cloud would go to meet Kadaj, the man who had murdered Tseng, and try to retrieve the children. Tifa would stay behind to keep track of events in Edge.

"What should we do?" I had asked. While Cloud and Tifa discussed things inside, Reno, Rude, and I sat on the front steps drinking the beers they had stolen from the bar.

"We have to find the President," Reno said.

"He wasn't in a state to travel," Rude concurred, nodding in agreement. "I doubt they took him north."

"You think a murderer cares how fit to travel he was?" I asked, snorting. "You told me that he wanted the President for the Reunion, whatever the hell that is. Is that right?"

Reno took a swig of beer. "You know what, I've got a great idea." He slammed his beer down on the step.

"Reno." The warning in my voice was evident. "You're the one who taught me that coming up with ingenious ideas while drinking means that they have no chance of working." We shared a laugh, but our faces darkened when we remembered how that lesson had been learned.

"But it's a great idea, Tanith. And it's a great way for you to prove yourself as a Turk."

My eyes narrowed. "Whoa there, Reno. I already told you, I'm not interested."

Reno leaned back. "How about this. You're worried about the kid, right? You don't want anyone to get hurt. What say you follow Cloud up to the Forgotten City?"

"What?" I asked, if only to say something.

"Let's face it: he'll probably just get into trouble by himself. While he does that, you get the kid. That way, if President ShinRa's there, you can get him, too!" Reno looked proud of himself. "That way, we've got all of our bases covered."

Rude was in agreement. "Reno and I can check around here," he confirmed.

"Wait a second," I said, holding my hands up.

"Wait for what?" Reno's expression was catlike. "You _are_ the Serpent, Tanith. All you have to do is watch, and wait. You're good at that, aren't you?"

* * *

And so it was that I had flown a helicopter to the Forgotten City by myself while Reno and Rude scouted around Edge, looking for anything that could help them find either Kadaj or Rufus. I had kept an open line for them on the chopper in case they found anything, but in a few hours travel, they had sent no word.

I landed in a clearing just outside the city. All around, I could see nothing but trees and darkness. Without any idea where I was going, I set up a flare that I could activate remotely and snuck off.

The trees weren't close together, but I had the horrible sense that I could never get back to the helicopter, no matter what direction I went in. I tore over roots and skidded through dirt, uphill and downhill both. I could have sworn that I'd seen the same tree a few times, but I couldn't think what that meant. I had to believe I was still going in a straight line.

I stopped to catch my breath when I caught sight of the moon. Big, bright, and perfectly round, it leered at me as if it were alive. I sat down at the edge of a small lake and rested my head on my knees. I was tired, damn it all, but at least I hadn't cramped up like I had when running from the WRO soldiers. Maybe I was starting to get back in shape.

Then something metal was pressed to my skull, and I realized that I was not in any kind of form at all.

I put my hands up to show I wasn't holding a weapon. "Easy, there," I said. "I'm not looking for a fight."

The metal was removed, and I turned to face the person behind me.

"Oh, it's you," I said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Were you expecting someone else?" the man with the deep voice, Vincent Valentine, asked. The triple barreled gun that had been pressed against my scalp hung at his side.

I nodded. "There are remnants here," I said, staring into the lake. "Failed Sephiroth clones, or, at least, that's what I've been given to understand. They've taken a bunch of children from Edge to 'cure' them of their Geostigma. The children Tifa takes care of were also taken."

The man in the cloak leaned against a tree and watched me. "You thought you could take them by yourself?"

"No. Cloud's coming." I told him all of what had transpired since I had left WRO headquarters and Reeve, all the way through how I'd managed to get myself stationed at the Forgotten City.

His only comment was, "I was wondering why you had that uniform."

I shrugged. "It's still one of my only pairs of clothes. When the WEAPON popped out of nowhere and the Lifestream burst out of Mideel, I didn't exactly have a lot of time to pack up." I watched my reflection ripple across the water. "I wanted to go back to the Turks so badly then… I kept the uniform with me at all times. I was furious that they would have considered me so dispensable. After all that I'd done-!"

Vincent didn't respond to any of those statements. "They're not dead."

"Excuse me?"

"Tseng and Elena. You said they were dead. They are badly injured, but…"

I spun to face the man in the red cloak. "No."

"Do you know what they were sent to the Crater for?" I shook my head. "They went after Jenova's head, the only part that wasn't known to have been destroyed. They found it, but Kadaj and his gang were waiting for them."

"Where is it now?" I asked. "The part of Jenova."

Vincent shrugged. "They claim they got it into the helicopter. It's probably wherever Rufus ShinRa is."

"So the President isn't here?" Vincent nodded. "Good. I don't think I could bring myself to save him."

"Here." Vincent was standing right next to me all of a sudden. There was something in his hand, and I hesitated before taking it. "This forest is enchanted. With this, you won't be lost."

I backed away from the man in the red cloak. "How do you do that?" I demanded, thoroughly perturbed. "Move so quickly. Hide effortlessly. You were with me when we got out of that van, but you disappeared as if you had never been there." I bit back the question I really wanted to ask: _What are you?_

Vincent tilted his head as if to watch his own reflection. His lips were moving quickly now, as if arguing, but no sound issued from them.

My attention left Vincent as I heard something echoing through the trees. There was a crash, and a number of bangs that sounded like gunshots.

"Cloud is here," Vincent said simply, staring in the direction of the noise. "He's found the children. Follow me. Come back here when you've got what you came for."

I couldn't believe my eyes as he disappeared into his own cloak and became a floating red smear. It wriggled and writhed, then darted off through the trees.

"Hey, wait!"

I ran after him-_it_-following carefully. The ground was treacherous, and one of my ankles twisted, but still I kept running. Somehow, I knew that I would be able to retrace this route. Whatever Vincent had given me felt hot in my hand, and I had faith.

As we grew closer to what I supposed to be a fight, I began to plan. I couldn't possibly get all of the children: there were too many, and there was only one of me. I could most likely get away with Marlene and Denzel, but that would be it. Cloud would have to take care of the rest.

"Stay here and wait for an opening," I heard Vincent say to me. I shuddered as the cloak brushed close to me and darted for the treetops. Struggling to keep my breath under control, I peered around the building I had found myself behind.

The silver-haired men had lead all of the children to another lake, this one filled with black water. I saw the one I'd met in the hotel attempting to blast Cloud into oblivion with a gun, and another, this one with very short hair, trying to pummel him into the same state. A third, the one I assumed to be the leader and therefore Kadaj, was hanging back, a sword at his side.

In the sea of children, I struggled to find Marlene. She was pulling at another child's arm, trying to get him to move. I noted with a mixture of emotions that it was Denzel.

He, along with all of the other children, was acting peculiarly. He looked like he was sleepwalking: he just stood, his eyes barely open, watching events unfold. Even as the gunfire strayed dangerously close, he hardly moved. He must have been drugged, I deduced, or so I hoped.

I snuck around the side of the building, and, going tree by tree, crept closer to Marlene. When I thought I was close enough, I picked up a rock and tossed it just short of her so as not to startle her.

Her attention was on me right away. She glanced nervously at Kadaj, but he wasn't paying her or the other children any attention. I shivered at the look of utter bloodlust painted across his face. He was thoroughly enjoying watching Cloud come dangerously close to death. I had only ever seen that look once before, and I didn't want to remember it.

Marlene pulled on Denzel's arm, but it was no use: he wouldn't move. She looked over to me for help, but there was nothing I could do. I shook my head from side to side. Taking one last look back at Denzel, Marlene ran and hid herself in my arms.

"Denzel," she whispered. "Kadaj made him drink the water, like everyone else. He said it would cure the Geostigma, but it's still there."

I knelt and put my hands on her shoulders, acutely aware that we were far from safety. The gunfire grew closer, then farther away, and Kadaj ran to join the fray.

"There's nothing we can do now," I said, knowing that no reassurances could make this better. "Tifa is all right, I swear it. Cloud will take care of Denzel. I have to get you out of here."

Marlene bit both of her lips, then said, "His eyes. They're different." She stared at her feet. "They're like Sephiroth's…"

I picked Marlene up and stole back to where I had taken shelter before, behind the building. I then proceeded to run, following gut instinct alone, through the forest. Marlene felt heavy in my arms, but I couldn't stop. At some point, the gunfire behind me ceased, and I wanted to break down. There was no way to deduce how the fight had gone down, but regardless of the outcome, Marlene's absence would be missed.

Slowing down as I reached the lake, I put Marlene back on her feet and motioned for her to be silent. I could hear voices, and I had to make sure it was safe. I heard Vincent first, and then…

Marlene ran past my legs and into the clearing.

"Marlene!"

A man with spiky blond hair caught Marlene as she ran to him. I stepped out past her, brushing my shoulders.

"Thank you," I said to Vincent, holding up the charm. Cloud had his blade pointed at me in a matter of seconds, his eyes narrowed and wary. Vincent stepped between us. I could not see the look on his face, but Cloud lowered his weapon immediately.

"Cloud!" Marlene yelled, clutching at the man. She searched for Denzel, but the boy wasn't there. "Denzel and Tifa…!"

"Tifa is all right," Cloud said, saying nothing of the boy.

"I wanna talk to her!"

Cloud checked his pockets for his phone, but he couldn't find it. The little girl turned to Vincent next and asked, "May I?"

The man with red eyes lifted his cloak as a gesture.

"You don't have a phone?" Marlene exclaimed, unabashedly surprised. She turned to me, but Cloud cut her off before she could say anything.

"Who are you?" Cloud asked.

"Tanith Drake," I answered. "I'm a private-" I cut myself off, sighing. "You know what? Forget it. I'm an ex-Turk, plain and simple. Tifa hired me to find you when you went missing, so I did."

"Ex-Turk?" Cloud looked to Vincent. "Do you two know each other?"

The red-eyed man turned to me and I shrugged. "We've met," he said evasively.

Cloud shook his head. "Thank you for getting Marlene. Vincent, will you bring her to Tifa? I'm going to ShinRa to get a few answers."

"I can't do that," Vincent responded.

"And you're going to have one hell of a time finding him," I said. "Even the Turks don't know where he is now."

"But I…"

Marlene drew away from Cloud, looking furious.

"Forget it, Cloud! Why don't you ever pay any attention to us?" She ran to Vincent and hid under her cloak so that only her feet could be seen. I guessed from the way Vincent was standing that she had a pretty good grip on his leg.

"Marlene, come on out, now," I said. "I came here to take you back to Tifa."

"I won't go."

"Marlene, please, give me some time," Cloud tried. "There's a battle to be fought, but it's not as simple as just fighting. Understand?"

"No, I don't!" Marlene stamped her little foot.

Vincent shook his head. "Cloud, are you sure this is about fighting?"

Cloud fell silent for a long moment. While he cogitated about whatever, I knelt in the dirt and tried to get a look at Marlene.

"Won't you come out?" I asked. "Please?"

I saw her feet turn as she faced my direction. "Not yet," she said quietly. "Tifa really is OK?"

I smiled, though she couldn't see it. "Yes, she is. I promised you, didn't I?"

Cloud seemed to have regained his senses. I stood up.

"Are sins ever forgiven?"

The non sequitur question caught me off guard, but Vincent seemed to have been anticipating it. "I've never tried," he said.

"You mean," Cloud started. He looked at Vincent: claw, red eyes, wild hair, cloak. "Never tried." He stared at his shoes for another moment longer. "Marlene, let's go." Marlene's head popped out from underneath the cloak. She wore a huge smile as she nodded. "Well, I'm going to try. I'll phone in the verdict."

"Wait, where are you going?" I asked, taking a few steps after them. Moving inhumanly fast, Vincent had my arm held firmly in place. "What?"

"Let them go," he said. I looked after Cloud and Marlene. They hadn't heard me anyway. I hesitated before agreeing, and my arm was released.

I heaved a heavy sigh and sat down. "Well, at least she's safe now." Vincent made a noncommittal noise. I crawled to the water's edge and looked down. I thought I could see the bottom, but I couldn't be sure. "What did you mean when you said that to Cloud? That you'd never tried having your sins forgiven."

Vincent breathed loudly. "I have many sins. None of them have ever been forgiven."

"How do you know?" I asked, running my fingers over the water. It rippled, and I watched as the waves spread across the entire surface. "How do we ever know when things are forgiven?" I turned around to face him. He, too, had sat down, leaning against the same tree as before. "You came out of that coffin, didn't you?"

He made another noise. "So you remembered."

"I used to have a killer memory," I said, crossing my legs. "My old boss-your ex-partner, Veld-called me the Serpent. He said I was the perfect spy. Memory went into that." I breathed deeply. "I'm a far cry from that, now."

"Will you go back with the Turks?"

I shook my head furiously. "No. I couldn't do that. But…" I traced patterns in the dirt with my wet hand. "I don't know what I'll do. I might have joined WRO, but Reeve is…not the man I once knew." I shrugged. "I'm going to take it one day at a time, I guess. First things first, I'll wrap up this business with the Turks. Then, I'm going to find Felix Kester. We need to have a little chat, he and I. After that… Who knows?" I looked at Vincent carefully. He was staring at me, but I had the distinct impression that he was looking through me.

"You said that Tseng and Elena were alive," I said next, filling in the silence. "Where are they?"

Vincent stood. "Follow me." I thought he was going to turn into the red smear again, but he merely began walking.

"Wait up," I said, jogging after. His legs were longer than mine, but I could keep pace with him if I worked at it. He gave no explanation as we walked on.

I was beginning to tire, but then we reached a large, shell-like building much like the one I'd seen earlier. Vincent stepped inside, and I followed.

The inside was very dark, and I remained still until my eyes adjusted. I heard someone coughing, and the sound of water running.

When I could see, I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't being tricked.

"Tseng? Elena?" I asked, taking another step inside.

"…Tanith?"

I moved quickly. There were three beds, two of which were occupied. Elena was coughing into a handkerchief, a bandage on her cheek. Tseng looked worse for wear.

"You're alive."

"A statement of the obvious. Yes, we are…alive." Tseng looked to Elena as if he couldn't believe it. The affection on his face was unmistakable, and I couldn't help but smile. Tseng's eyes then traveled past me to land on something behind me. "We owe you our lives."

I turned to see a pair of glowing, red eyes in the darkness behind me that belonged to Vincent. He didn't say anything at all.

"The President thinks you're dead," I said, explaining what had happened. "No one knows where he is now."

"We do," Elena said triumphantly. She promptly began coughing again. Vincent was at her side in a matter of milliseconds with a fresh cloth and a glass of water.

"They took him to Edge," Tseng filled in. "They're trying to resurrect Sephiroth, but they're not entirely sure how. They're going to cause chaos in the meanwhile." Vincent bristled, though I couldn't tell why.

"Edge. That's good. Reno and Rude are there, searching even as we speak." I glanced outside. Day was breaking. My head felt as if it were going to explode from lack of sleep.

"Tanith." Tseng's voice was heavy. "I must apologize. I was wrong."

I chose not to respond. I wasn't going to be a Turk. Vincent glanced at me. "You should rest," he said, his eyes traveling to the third bed. "They cannot travel yet. Kadaj will not be able to reach Edge before afternoon today. You should not fly without sleep."

I nodded, my body feeling heavy. "That's…a great idea," I said. "What about you?" I tucked myself into the sheets, too tired to think about consequences.

He laughed quietly to himself, his lips moving. When he spoke, it was with an unusual voice. "I spent decades in stasis, sleeping. There is no need for that now."

Settled between the sheets, I was aware of that pair of glowing, red eyes in the brightening darkness. They were the last thing I saw before sleep claimed me for its own.

Or, maybe, were they gold.


	12. Chapter 12

_"I told my love I could not stay_

_and in his anger he ran away_

_to the valley of the great Cosmos_

_where he could hide from cruel Eros_

_and from the truth, sad as it may seem_

_that he did not love I, and I not he_

_for I had discovered true sweetness abroad_

_on a distant seashore not untrod._

_I had tasted there, a pox upon me!_

_an apple from a golden apple tree._

_It stole away my love as the box did for Pandora_

_for nothing is sweeter than an apple on the eve of a warm summer's night in Banora."_

"Something from home?"

I stopped singing and looked over to Elena. Her attention was fixated on the panels before her. If she hadn't spoken, I would have guessed her to be entirely engrossed and unaware of anything I said or did. Just what she was doing escaped me, as I was the one flying the helicopter.

"In a way," I said finally, watching the sky through the clear, polycarbonate windshield. "It's something my mother used to sing."

Elena said nothing, and I assumed that, her question answered, we would proceed as before: in utter silence. For a long time, that assumption held. Neither she nor I spoke a word aloud. The helicopter's blades thrummed overhead, and from time to time the panels that Elena was working on made a low electronic noise.

Tseng was resting in the back. His wounds had been far more grievous than Elena's. He had insisted that he be the one to fly the chopper, but my will had been, for the first time, stronger than his. Elena and I had fashioned him a makeshift bed, and, to the best of my knowledge, he was recuperating nicely. Whether that involved sleeping or scheming, I didn't care. Tseng was never a man to be babied: he relented to rest because he knew he had to, and he would do whatever else he knew he must to get by. That was his way, and I respected it immensely. The years had passed, but Tseng had remained untouched and unchanged.

"I'm sorry."

The words were so soft that I wasn't sure they had been spoken at all. As we tore through clouds and mist, I spared a single glance at Elena. She had stopped fiddling with whatever she had been doing. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her head was bowed. Her haircut ensured that I could not see her face.

"I'm sorry," I said, "but did you just say something?"

I returned my eyes to the controls before me. I did not see her squirming in her seat, trying to find the words she wanted.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I… When I was hired, I didn't know about you. I thought all of the old Turks were dead. I thought my sister was dead."

My shoulders dropped. I remembered _her_, the one I had at first mistaken Elena for: she had a similar haircut, it was true, but her eyes betrayed the difference. Elena's were a soft hazel, the rare kind hardly ever found on Gaia anymore. _Hers_ had been a bright blue, the kind that you could only find in the oceans of Costa del Sol. SOLDIERs and mako-enhanced militiamen had nothing on her.

"I always wanted to surpass my sister. I vowed that I would never join the Turks so long as she was part of the team. I had to be stronger, have better aim, be a better everything… Heidegger was the one who brought the news. When he told me my sister was…" I heard her sniffle and shift in her seat. This wasn't easy for her, I knew. Without any idea of how to comfort her, I decided to do what I had always dome best: listen, wait, watch, and, above all else, remain perfectly silent.

"He told me that you all had turned traitor, that you'd been executed for your crimes. He didn't mention anything else. He just…left. I didn't know what to do. I was scared. I wanted to be brave and strong like my sister and the rest of the Turks, but at the same time, I knew that to look to them-to you-would be a costly mistake. I tried to talk to Tseng, Reno, and Rude, but they were perfectly mum. They didn't let on a single thing. I had no one to turn to but myself."

She paused for so long that I thought she had stopped. She continued, however, saying, "I can't say that I'm sorry I was promoted to a full-fledged Turk. It's made me a stronger person, a better person, no matter how hard it's been. What I am sorry about is… I always looked at ShinRa as a family, but I was wrong. No real family ever casts out one of their own. The Turks, though, are a real family. We stick together, we look out for our own. I'm sorry that I was brought in as a replacement. I'm sorry that I thought that, somehow, I was better than you, or my sister, or anyone."

I could feel her watching me, waiting for a reaction I didn't know how to give. I still wasn't sure what she had apologized for, though I knew she was doing her best to articulate it. I breathed deeply, acutely aware of my own silence. It had often turned against me at times like these, but my own verbal impotency had rarely stung so badly.

"It's all right," I managed to say, my tongue feeling leaden. That was horrible, and I knew it. I tried again. "I cannot accept your apology. You _are_ better than I am."

"Tanith?"

I smiled at the air in front of me, wishing I were anywhere else. "Tseng told me I lacked conviction. He later said he was wrong, but I think otherwise. Maybe the Turks are a big family, like you say, but there's one problem." I pulled at my sleeves, suddenly feeling as if my clothing was constricting me in all of the wrong places. I had an itch on my foot that I could not make go away. This conversation could not go well. "You see, you're part of the family. You follow Tseng. You care about Reno and Rude, and vice versa. You care, to an extent, about the President. You're the perfect member.

"Then there's me. I don't do any of those things. I'm the Serpent, the family member that everyone is a little wary around because I could go either way. I could play for any team. I care about the Turks, certainly, but would I die for them? What would I give for Tseng, or Reno, or even the President? I didn't go to the Forgotten City for them." I shook my head from side to side to signify my answer. "The others may not have been traitors," I said, the word stinging my lips. "I wish I could say that about myself."

A few long moments passed with no words spoken. Then Elena whispered, "What did you do?"

* * *

_Seven Years Ago_

Heel click, nod, hands held behind back. "President ShinRa, sir."

"Ah, Tanith. I'm glad you could make it." If I sensed that I'd already gone through all of this before, I did not let it show.

"How may I be of service, sir?"

The aging, overweight man turned in his seat. "I've read your latest reports on Cissnei," he said, holding up a manila folder. I straightened my posture and waited. "This is a curious situation, Tanith. Do you believe our Cissnei has been…compromised?"

I steeled myself before answering. A wrong response would mean death for all parties-except, of course, the President. He was untouchable.

"Yes, sir. I do."

"I must say, I am of the same mind. Now, what do we do about it?"

* * *

_Four Years Ago_

ShinRa never liked to take any chances: even with the army swarming the area, every Turk within some mile radius had been ordered to congregate in Nibelheim. The orders were quite simple: two test subjects had escaped and had to be brought back, preferably alive. They were Zack Fair and Cloud Strife.

My orders were a little different. I watched Cissnei's face closely under the moonlight: she was determined, but she was also torn. After years of watching her, I knew that she was in a state where she could go one of two ways: either she would apprehend the escapees, or she would abet them.

We Turks dispersed. I didn't bother to see who was manning the helicopter and who was on foot: I only had one target, and that was the young woman who was running with a purpose.

Her wavy orange hair was a dead giveaway of her position, even on the darkest of nights. She moved stealthily and with a purpose. She knew where she was going, that was for sure. I tracked her carefully, keeping off of the ground as much as possible. The less unnatural noises she heard around her, the less skittish she would be. I had to avoid drawing her suspicion at all costs because, if I was right, she would take me straight to the subjects, and I would see with my own eyes whether or not the President's plan had to be enacted.

We reached the edge of the continent swiftly. Without a place to hide on the plains and then the beach, I stole from rock to rock, hiding in the shadows of cliffs and whatever trees I could find. Cissnei ran fast, but not fast enough. I could see her slowing down as she approached the crashing waves.

There was someone standing on the beach already, looking out into the ocean. Stealing closer, I watched Cissnei approach. The figure didn't draw his sword, but his hand moved toward it instinctively.

"SOLDIER 1st Class, Zack Fair," I whispered to myself. What would Cissnei do with one of the targets?

He said something to her, and she replied. They were just talking. Zack was pleading, and Cissnei's body language betrayed her distraught frame of mind.

When she threw her shuriken, there was no force behind it, no will. She was acting against her own wishes, whatever those were. Zack batted the weak attack aside with ease. I held my breath. Cissnei caught her shuriken as it whirled back to her, but she did not attack again. She looked down at the ground, looking sorry for herself.

Zack ran, then, in the direction we had come. Cissnei didn't move. I nearly called it in there, angry as I was, but my hopes were restored when I saw her resume her pursuit. Maybe it hadn't come to the worst yet, after all.

I followed her as she stalked Zack, through plains and trees, and across a treacherous trail. Again, I did my best to stay physically above her. Thus far, Cissnei was unsuspecting. I didn't need to ruin it all now with a rookie blunder.

Zack had stopped near a collapsed, catatonic man. His spiky blond hair was unkempt and matted with leaves and dirt from the escape. Target number two: Cloud Strife. Cissnei had let one go to ensnare the duo. I felt a surge of warmth toward the young girl. She was one of us yet.

The SOLDIER drew his sword as if to fight, but Cissnei had her hands in the air. They were talking again, and, after a brief exchange, Cissnei lifted her phone to her ear. I silenced my own device: whatever announcement she was about to send out would make it beep, giving away my position.

I held my phone to my ear and prayed. Then I heard her voice: "Tseng, the targets have escaped."

"All right. Everyone, we fall back and regroup."

I closed my eyes. Cissnei was talking to Zack again. She had both targets there. She could have called for backup and taken them down easily with a little help. Zack obviously trusted her, to a degree. Whatever relationship they'd built up had its foundations on something solid. But there she was, throwing it all away.

I wanted to be sick, or, better yet, to take all three of them into my custody and bring them in. I didn't, though: those weren't my orders. I slunk off into the darkness, careful not to make a single noise. It wasn't Cissnei I was worried about anymore: it was the SOLDIER Zack Fair, and whether or not he sensed me. I didn't fancy dying that night.

As soon as I was a safe distance away, I called the President.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the delays! My schedule has been rather erratic this summer. Anyway, here's a shout-out to redcherryamber, without whom this chapter probably would have been a little longer in the making.

Once again, thank you all for reading, and enjoy the show!

Oh, and the bad poetry is _intentionally_ bad poetry. I can write decent poetry. Honest.


	13. Chapter 13

_Present Time_

"Tanith? Tanith, are you all right?"

Elena's hand on my shoulder jolted me back to reality. I looked up at her, blinking rapidly.

"What did I tell you?" I asked.

"You didn't say anything; you just drifted off. Are you feeling all right?"

I shook my head groggily. It felt like I'd gone to sleep. We were nearing Edge now: in about an hour, we'd have to find a spot to land.

"Can you fly for a while? I need a short rest."

Elena watched me carefully with those unusual eyes. "I think so, too." She took over the pilot seat with grace. I watched her as she handled the controls: she did so gingerly, as if she feared breaking something. Even so, she knew exactly what she was doing. This wasn't her first time flying.

I slid open the door to the rear compartment and set myself down near my motorcycle. Tseng was taking up all of the seating, sprawled out as he was. I watched his chest rising and falling and came to the conclusion that he must be asleep.

I allowed my eyes to drift shut as well as I leaned against the metal of the bike.

* * *

"Um, Mr. Valentine? Mr. Valentine?"

"I wonder where he went."

Elena and I were the first to rise, and we noticed the absence of Vincent Valentine almost immediately. We checked the shell house top to bottom and found no trace of the man. Our poking around woke up Tseng, and he assisted us in the search. It was as if Vincent had never been there.

"Mr. Valentine?" Elena let out a schoolgirl's curse, spinning around to stare at the endless sea of white trees. "I hate being indebted to people-!"

"We can't wait," Tseng interjected, ever the voice of reason. "He knows that you came here by helicopter. If he wanted to go to Edge with us, he knew we would be obligated to take him."

"Right," I replied. "Do you feel well enough to travel?"

"Your concern is touching but hardly necessary. The President is in danger. We will go to his side at once."

I sighed and closed my eyes for effect. "Hey, I'm not your chauffeur. I came here for the kids."

"…And? Where are they?"

The stab hurt, but I couldn't let it get under my skin. "I set up a remote-activated flare at the helicopter site," I said. "It'll lead us to where I left the thing."

Elena shook her head. "It's hopeless. These woods are enchanted. We can't move around without a Lunar Harp."

"Is that what this thing is?" I questioned, taking out the charm Vincent had given me. I supposed it looked something like a small, carved harp. "I didn't know. Anyway. With this, we can get back, I guess. Stick close to me, since I've got the charm. I'll lead the way."

I set off the flare and waited a few moments to see the results. Red sparks shot into the air in regular intervals, denoting the position of the helicopter. We were closer to it than I had imagined. With a wave of my hand, I had Tseng and Elena trailing behind me, leaning on each other for support, or so they claimed. I think they were just happy to be alive, and on the way back to something they thought was civilization.

* * *

"Are you awake?"

The voice was Tseng's. I cracked my eyes open again.

"Yes," I said. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing important."

The helicopter glided gracefully through the skies. I would have been happier if there had been some sort of rocking or swaying, anything to dissuade conversation.

"What's the plan?"

"Why are you asking me, Tseng?"

He folded his arms. His hair was splashed around his head in an effeminate fashion. If I hadn't known him, I would have said that he looked like one of the old ShinRa advertising models: androgynous and utterly professional.

"The President is in Edge," he said. "I know this for a fact. Kadaj suspects that Jenova's head is there."

"Is it?"

He tried to shrug and winced. "The President will likely have it with him. We did manage to get it to the helicopter before we were accosted. Tanith, have I already had this conversation with you?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no."

He put a hand to his head. "It's odd. I'm in pain, it's true, but this is different than when Sephiroth- I wonder, is this what the people we tortured felt like afterwards?"

I didn't know the incident to which he was referring. I responded so softly that I didn't know if he would hear. "The people we tortured rarely lived, Tseng."

"I just felt a strange case of déjà vu, that's all."

So he hadn't heard me. It was probably for the better. "Day-jah what?"

"Déjà vu. It means 'already seen'. When you have the feeling that you've seen something or heard something before, as if you remember something that hasn't happened yet, that's what it's called."

"Oh," I said, trying not to sound ignorant. "That's a convenient phrase."

"Reno and Rude are searching for the President, you said. Have they sent any word?"

I shook my head, then realizing he couldn't see me, replied, "No, nothing. I sent both of them messages before we left confirming the President's presence in Edge, but neither has said anything."

"Are you worried?" He breathed deeply, sounding pained. "I wouldn't be. They'll make do." Tseng propped himself up and stared at me. "Tanith, are you feeling quite all right?"

I smiled the same way I had smiled in the pilot's cabin. If I could have melted into the floor and through the bottom of the helicopter, I would have. "No, Tseng," I said. "I am not feeling all right. I'm not…"

He waited for me to continue, but I didn't want to talk. Not to him, anyway. But, if I was to be honest with myself, to whom did I want to speak?

"Tanith?"

I curved my spine so that I stared at the floor of the chopper. I felt a twinge in my left trapezius, a stinging feeling that couldn't quite be classified as painful. Rubbing the area, I considered what to do.

"Do you ever get the feeling," I said slowly, easing myself back up, "that everything you've wanted is completely wrong? The feeling that you hardly know yourself?" Tseng said nothing, and I didn't dare look at him. "Do you ever wonder why you do what you do, why you did what you did? It's not regret, it's confusion, it's-"

I felt my stomach rise into my throat as my feet left the ground. Elena screamed, and Tseng was airborne for a few moments. The helicopter rocked wildly from side to side as if possessed. I smashed into one of the walls. My foot caught the latch, and the door flew open.

Someone was screaming then, and it took me a long time to realize that it was me. I grabbed for something, _anything_, and found nothing but air for what felt like eternity. The change in air pressure took the oxygen out of my lungs and made me feel light and dizzy. Only by accident did I manage to catch onto the landing skids.

"Tanith!" Tseng's head appeared in the doorway. The wind wrenched my body from side to side mercilessly. "Hang on!"

He disappeared back inside. I thought he was going to throw me a ladder, but he didn't reappear. I hugged the rail for dear life, wishing and praying and crying. I didn't want to die-not hanging off of a ShinRa helicopter, not wearing a ShinRa uniform, not escorting two Turks to their President.

A storm had come upon us, and fast. We were descending rapidly, no doubt the combined efforts of Tseng and Elena. The door was still open, if only I could climb up to it…

But I had grown spoiled over the last couple of years. I had become accustomed to residing in one location, with one identity, with no risks to my health or life. I wasn't the woman Tseng remembered, the woman who could have held on forever and been perfectly fine, just like I was not the back-stabbing, duplicitous spy. The only link I had to that old life, I now knew, was a uniform, a name, and a history. Nothing else bound me.

As I fell away from the helicopter, I realized not even my own grip could keep me within ShinRa's everlasting protection.

* * *

_Falling_

_falling_

_down..._

* * *

My back was to the wall of the Research Department QMC and I was breathing heavily. I hadn't been expecting an attack within ShinRa's very own walls, least of all by him.

"What have you done?"

My head slammed against the wall as my shoulders were jerked forward then back again. I felt as limp as a rag doll, and just as hollow. I didn't need an explanation to know why I was getting this treatment.

"I said, _what have you done_?"

I struggled to breathe as one hand clamped around my neck. "I was just…following orders." I wanted to say more but my oxygen was dwindling. My gaze faltered, and I could barely see my attacker.

"Who's orders?" I said nothing because I couldn't, and my head was slammed back again. "I asked you who gave you those orders!"

"The President," I wheezed. "I had to…give reports."

The hand eased, but only slightly. I breathed as deeply as I could, trying to make the fuzziness go away. "And you told him?" This time, even though I could answer, I didn't. How could I? "Lying is supposed to be your specialty, snake, and you decided to tell the truth? Did you tell them where we were?" I shook my head as best as I could to say no.

My assailant dropped me, and I dropped to the floor, landing on my hands and knees. He kicked me in the stomach for good measure.

"Traitor."

* * *

"Mama, I want to go work for ShinRa!"

I stood in the kitchen, clutching at a poster I had found on the ground. It showed a handsome man and woman in ShinRa uniform. I couldn't read most of the words, but it looked cool.

She snatched it away from my hands. "Oh, sweetheart." I waited for her to fold me into her arms, but she only laid a single hand on my shoulder. "Dear, that's not the path for you. You're too sweet and fragile. ShinRa's for big strong men."

"Can't I be strong, mama?"

"Oh, honey. You're strong in your own way. You'll find a better path."

* * *

"You're from Banora, right? _'For nothing is sweeter than an apple on the eve of a warm summer's night in Banora'_?"

I nodded and did my best to smile. "That's right. They _are_ good apples."

"Then you might know one of the 1st Class SOLDIERs: does the name Genesis Rhapsodos ring a bell?"

"What, the kid from the apple juice ads? He's a SOLDIER?"

"Yeah, you never heard of him? He's the real deal. Some people around here are saying that he's even better than Sephiroth."

* * *

"There was no way around it."

There was no apology in his voice, no real concern for my well-being. I didn't know why I bothered looking for a moral explanation anymore.

"Well," I said, taking a deep breath. The smoke poured off of the town thick and heavy. Between the smog and the rain, I could barely see a thing. I thought of my parents, then pushed the thought away. "I hope some of the apple trees survived."

* * *

"It was the best I could do, given the circumstances."

Even the way he sat exuded royalty. He looked down at us as if we were his subjects and he our king. The other Turks stood and received their final orders with gravity and dignity. I clenched my fists to keep from lashing out.

"And you, Tanith Drake. I thought of the perfect place for you. I'm told Banora is uninhabitable, but perhaps you'd take a liking to Mideel. A little bit of that southern air might do you some good. It's much like your home used to be."

He was watching me. Did he expect gratitude? I stared at the pristine white cuffs of his pants.

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

"It's the newest model," he was saying. "You'll be able to access the Worldwide Network using your old accounts. There's nothing that won't be available to you through these phones."

He sighed. "I, too, as you saw, have received my orders. I will be going underground with you. But I will be keeping in contact with Tseng, and I urge you all to keep your eyes peeled. Let me know if you see anything that might cause a disturbance. Scarlet won't let us return, but that doesn't mean we're not still a team. We're a family, we Turks. We stick together." I felt his eyes pass over me, and I felt anger-not only for him, but for all who stood with me. For all I knew, this would be the last time I would see any of them.

_And it's all your fault_.

My eyes found Cissnei. She met my gaze and stared back. She knew.

"Don't hesitate to call in any information you find relevant. We can still be the force we once were, if only we remember it."

* * *

"You are certain?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. President, sir. Beyond reasonable doubt."

"And they are all in on it." The chair creaked under his weight. "It's a bold thing you're doing, appearing in my office like this when everyone on Gaia knows that to see you or the rest of the Turks means to shoot on sight." I said nothing. My loyalty was to the President, after all, wasn't it? _Wasn't it?_ "Well, it's good to know I can count on you, Tanith. Good employees are hard to come by these days."

* * *

Veld chartered a private vessel to take me to Mideel on the Vice-President's orders. He traveled with me under the guise that it was only right that he see through the last days. I knew, though: he hadn't treated the other Turks this way. Even through all I had done-all of the things he didn't know I had done-I was his favorite. Above Cissnei, above all the rest. Even as I prepared to face down exile, I was proud of my standing.

"I looked on all of the Turks as my children," he said sadly. We stood on the beach, a fine mist hanging in the air. "I wish things had turned out differently."

"I'm glad you found Elfé, Veld," I said seriously. "I'm happy for you."

"Tanith…" He smiled then, and killed me with his words: "You know, sometimes you remind me of Cissnei. She was always the kindest and most supportive to me." He laughed. "And you, the Serpent. You've always kept to the shadows, haven't you? You ought to come into the light more often. Perhaps Mideel will do you some good."

My tongue felt numb. "I'll miss her," I said, the insincerity apparent.

"Tanith?"

I turned and walked away.

* * *

I turned and walked away.

* * *

I turned and walked away.

* * *

_Forever turning your back, forever walking away… Never facing a problem head-on, never tackling the issue outright. You're a liar and a spy. You did this. You brought this all on yourself._

* * *

_-cannot remember_

_the faces_

_or the names._

_Falling_

_falling_

_still?_

_No._

* * *

Whether my eyes were open or closed, all I could see was utter blackness. There was no color and no warmth, only a frozen, icy coldness and inky darkness. I felt like I was flying: I felt fabric brushing my legs and arms and face and neck, swirling and moving all around me. From time to time, I thought I saw a pinprick of light, but it was gone before I could properly take note of it.

_So this is what death is like._


	14. Chapter 14

"Just hang on a little bit longer."

The blackness subsided to a red-gray. I didn't know when it happened, but my sensation came back. There was something over my body. I felt wet and sticky, as if I had been dumped in a bog.

"It looks like she's waking up."

"You should go. No-wait, stay."

I recognized that voice. Who was it? I tried to open my eyes, but they burned too badly and I teared up. "Am I in hell?"

"Dim the lights." There was a long pause. "Try to open your eyes again. It won't be so bright, I promise."

_To hear is to obey_, I thought grimly. When I opened my eyes again, they hurt much less. The red-gray became plain gray, through which I began to discern shapes and movement. Then the gray acquired black and white, and, slowly, color creeped back into the world.

"Where am I?"

The voice beside me answered, "A private apartment in Edge. You fell out of a helicopter just over the city. You're lucky to be alive."

_The helicopter_. In my mind, I could see Tseng disappearing back inside. I remembered him not returning. The faces and names I couldn't recall before floated back: Tseng attacking me in the hall, my mother Idun, the ShinRa recruiting officer, Tseng again at Banora, Rufus as the bringer of bad news, Veld handing out cell phones, the old President in his office, and Veld and Cissnei and all the rest.

Whatever apartment I had been taken to looked like a hospital ward. My skin was damp, probably from sweat. The room was quite warm. Vincent Valentine was lurking in a corner, looking surly. To my side was a tired, aging man with wrinkles all across his face. He smiled and patted my hand like I had seen other kids' fathers do long ago.

"Veld?"

His smile widened. "We thought we'd lost you, Tanith." He looked over his shoulder at the man in the corner. "Thank you, Vincent."

The man in the cloak met neither of our eyes. He walked to the door and left without a word.

"What happened? How did you find me?"

"From what he told me, Vincent was trailing your helicopter. He suspected that you might be attacked in the air. When he saw you fall, he grabbed you and brought you here. How he found me is another matter entirely."

I put my head in my hands. "This makes the second time that man has saved me."

"He's a good creature." Veld's face fell into shadow. "'Man' might no longer be the appropriate word to use."

"Veld?"

His smile returned and he patted me on the shoulder. "Oh, listen to an old man gripe. What do I know?" He chuckled and shook his head. "The world has become a strange place over the years. I must admit, sometimes it seems it has changed too much."

"Do you miss the old days, sir?"

"No, it's not that. The world is a better place without us and the ShinRa running everything out in the open." He walked to the window and pulled at the blinds, peeking out. "I hear you had something of a run-in with the new world order, though. Something called WRO?"

I nodded. "It's headed by Reeve. He's changed, Veld. He's not the man he used to be."

"Did you expect him to remain the same? Are you still the same person, Tanith?"

I stared at the white sheets. "I hope not."

Veld regarded me intensely, fixing me in one spot. "I haven't heard from you over these long years."

The same itchy feeling as before assaulted my back shoulder, and I reached to scratch it. Veld stopped me, crossing the distance between us with a single stride.

"I wouldn't do that," he said grimly. I met his eyes again, and he relented first. He slipped my jacket off of my shoulder, followed by my shirt. My face flushed, but it wouldn't be the first time my old boss had seen me half-naked. The changing quarters had been co-ed.

"It's not as bad as it looks." He pulled a bandage aside to let me have a look.

I couldn't help it. I had caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye. I leaned as far away from him as I possibly could as whatever was left in my stomach came up and out, spraying all across the floor. I coughed and heaved and threw up again, gagging until there was nothing but acid and air.

"There, there," he said, wiping at my face. "I'll get it, don't worry." He worked methodically, as if he did this every day of his life. He replaced my clothes and bandages, then cleaned up the floor, wiping all traces of my sudden sickness away deftly. Shaking, I lowered myself back into the bed. I refused to believe that any of it was real.

"Vincent told me that was a new development," Veld said, throwing the towels in a trash bin. "But you've always been good at hiding things, haven't you?"

"It's not real," I said out loud. "You're not real. He's not real. I'm not real." The more I said it, the better it sounded. "None of this is real. I've had a very long, very bad dream, and now that I know I'm dreaming, I can wake up. None of this ever happened." Veld looked as sick as I felt. "I never went to Mideel, I never came in contact with a WEAPON. I never, I never-"

"Sold out the Turks to the President?" I bit my lip. "Never stalked Cissnei, never told the army where to find SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair and the infantryman Cloud Strife? Never spied, never killed, never tortured? Never what, Tanith?"

His voice hadn't risen at all. He recited my misdemeanors as if it were a shopping list. I swung my legs to the side and tried to stand up. Looking at his face, I could tell that he knew he'd passed the point of no return.

"It's too soon for that. You should remain abed."

"I have to find the President."

"Tseng and Elena are searching as we speak. Tanith, get down, now. We put you in a decompression chamber to get rid of the bends, but you're still not fully recovered." He watched me get up nonetheless. "Do you honestly think that pushing yourself is a good idea now?"

I propped myself against the wall, waiting for feeling to come back into my legs. "This is it, Veld," I breathed. "No tricks, no shadow games. I want to do this."

"Tanith, this isn't a good idea."

"You know, it made me mad, hearing you talk about Cissnei. It made me furious. I wanted to be her: the little prodigy, the sweet one, the caring one. Everyone always liked her the best, and I wanted to be the best at everything." I was crying then, my shoulders shaking as I leaned against the wall. "I wondered, why couldn't I be the one everyone liked? It wasn't just Tseng, though I knew he didn't approve of my promotion. It was all of them. I was the wicked one, the one everyone had to watch their tongues around. No one came to me for advice or support, and I would have been willing to give it had they asked. They came to me for help with murder, with with spying on people and slitting throats and- Do you know how hard it was to convince Tseng that I could handle the actual job? He didn't want to let me in when we went to Costa del Sol to recruit Azul. That was my _job_, what I was _hired_ for, and he thought I was so slippery that I couldn't be trusted with it. You know that. He told you not to let me go."

Veld said my name as if to console me, but he didn't approach me again. That ship had sailed, that bridge had been burnt.

"When the President approached me, it was just confirmation. Why wouldn't I do what he told me? They were orders, Veld, and no matter what you think, it wasn't everyone. It didn't start that way. It was just Cissnei and her one mission. I never told him where to find you. I never said anything about the Vice-President or Elfé."

"You told him enough that he could put it together for himself, Tanith," Veld interrupted. "The President wasn't a stupid man; he was surrounded by stupid people."

I slid down the wall until my bum hit the floor. I wrapped my arms around my knees and hugged them tightly. As my back muscles flexed, the black rash I had seen for only a few seconds throbbed and made its presence known once more. "I wanted to get of Banora so badly, I would have done anything to leave." I scratched the rash through my clothes. "When ShinRa bombed the town, I felt… I was sad, sure. It was where I grew up. But I was happy, too. I would never have to see my parents again, never have to go back. So when the President-Vice-President, you know what I'm talking about-sent me to Mideel, wanted me to _like_ it… And then you wanted me to be more like Cissnei. I'll never be Cissnei. I can't be her."

"I'm sorry."

We sat like that for some time, with Veld standing in the corner and me sitting on the floor. Then the door opened and shut, and Vincent Valentine had returned.

"Are you still looking for forgiveness?"

My head shot up. He was looking at me with those eyes of his. I could imagine what he saw: an angry little girl in a nearly-destroyed Turk uniform with puffy eyes and a sorry expression on her face. It wasn't the picture I wanted to die with, that was for sure. I nodded to the man in red and stood. Veld put his hands up and moved between us, anticipating what was going to happen.

"She's not well enough," he said. "The more she exerts herself, the faster the stigma will spread." Vincent grabbed Veld's arm and squeezed, turning his gaze on the ex-Turk director. Veld relented and fell back, watching the pair of us as if we were feral.

"I'm still looking," I said. "I want to fix this."

"Good. I found something that might help."

Reaching into the hallway, he tossed a large parcel into the room. It writhed and squirmed against its bonds, and it took me a moment to recognize. When I did, my face clouded over in fury.

"Felix Kester, you son of a bitch."

insert break

"I-I swear, it wasn't my idea!"

Felix backed into the corner near the windows of his own accord as soon as he was unbound. He looked worse for wear: there were cuts on his hands and face, and his clothes were torn and ragged. I wanted to beat him to a pulp, or cry, or scream at him, or something, but I knew that all of those things weren't the right ones to do. I merely looked to Vincent for an explanation.

"He was like this when I found him."

"I trust you."

Felix put his hands up. "N-now let's be reasonable, here, Tanith, shall we?" I took a step toward him, and he cowered back. "Don't hurt me!"

"No one intends violence," Vincent spoke, watching me carefully. I knew it was a warning. "You know something. You have to talk."

"Talk?"

"Your employers?" I questioned. Vincent, satisfied that I wouldn't rip the WRO agent to pieces, fell back and out of the conversation.

"All right, all right, I was sent as a spy by Mr. Tuesti, but-"

"Not that employer, Felix. I'm talking about the younger, silver-haired employers."

He paled considerably. "Please, I don't want anything more to do with them, I beg of you!" He was on his hands and knees.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know. They took a bunch of kids up to the Forgotten City for some kind of ritual."

"Come on, now. I know you know more than that. A truck couldn't have crossed to the northern continent." My eyes grew dangerous-or, at least, I hoped they looked dangerous, but in reality I knew they probably still looked puffy and bloodshot. "But, a stolen WRO helicopter could have, couldn't it? Should I call Reeve to ask if one has been taken? He did say there was a…shortage. Was that the errand you were running that morning?"

"Ah…"

I didn't take another step toward Felix. I stood my ground, anchoring myself next to Vincent, who, I noted curiously, was now watching Veld.

"Where are they, Felix?"

His voice was a mere whisper. "They're here."

He looked desperate. "Where, Felix?"

Breathing deeply, he said, "They cleared out Gaea Drive when they arrived this morning. There're a bunch of abandoned warehouses over there. There were no squatters, but they kicked out everyone in the general area. It was ugly."

"Good, Felix, that's very good information. Now, did they have someone with them? Someone in a wheelchair, perhaps?"

Felix nodded furiously. "I was supposed to watch him, while they did their, er, ceremony. He didn't talk." His tone become conspiratorial. "Was he important?"

I pulled my arm back as if to slap him. "You may be an accessory to murder," I seethed as he recoiled in fear. I felt my earlier anger rising and fought to keep it under control. "I'm sure Reeve will be very happy to hear that you may have signed the death pact for all of Gaia."

As Felix cowered once more an explosion rocked the apartment. I stumbled forward, my ears ringing loudly as the world spun around. Vincent was in front of me, speaking, but I understood none of his words.

"-you all right?"

All of the noises came back to me at once. "What was that?" I cast my gaze down to Felix, who had passed out, then looked to Veld, who had fallen. Detaching myself from Vincent, I offered a hand to my old boss.

The man in the red cloak approached the window and, with one of his clawed fingers, pulled down a single blind. "Stay here for the moment," Vincent ordered. He swept out of the room with no further explanation.

"You might not believe me," I said to Veld, feeling the pain in my back growing by the instant, "but I am truly sorry. Someone told me not too long ago that she thought ShinRa was supposed to be a family, that she hadn't initially realized that the Turks were the real safety net. I think I made the same mistake on a bigger scale."

Veld took my hand and stood. The room shook again, and I supported the older man only barely. "You're going to him, then?"

"What I did put the lives of the Vice-President and the Turks in danger. If I help save him now, ShinRa and the Turks survive. All of the damage is undone."

I turned for the door. "You're not the only one to blame for this, Tanith. I put my daughter before the Turks, and the Turks before ShinRa. We all made our mistakes. Don't make another one in shouldering this alone."

I thought very seriously before answering. From the street, I could hear gunshots and screaming. In the distance, something roared. If I was going to do something, I had to do it quickly. "Tseng knows what I did. Does anyone else?"

"No. He always said he wanted to talk to you first. He said that he'd confronted you before, but that he'd been emotionally compromised." I remembered being thrown against a wall and kicked in the gut.

"That's one way to put it, yes. That's good." I didn't have enough time to wait for Vincent to OK the surroundings. The screams were louder in the hallway as they echoed up the stairwell. I figured, I still had a stolen handgun and a standard phone. I could make it just fine if I went quickly. "And Veld? I didn't plan on doing this alone."


	15. Chapter 15

Gaea Drive, I discovered, was a narrow, damp side street that ran parallel to Freedom Highway, Edge's principal road. Gaea Drive was littered with wooden crates, broken beer bottles, black puddles, and filthy rags that had once served as bandages. Dirt and dust nearly obscured the asphalt, and through them I could see fresh tire tracks. I knelt to examine the distinctive design before moving on posthaste.

As I peered in the door of the first of the abandoned, unfinished buildings, I wondered at the lack of people. Felix said that Kadaj and his boys had scared them away, but I thought there might be something else at play. The tracks in the dirt looked like the ones I'd seen the WRO truck make when I'd been brought back to Edge. I remembered, too, from the past, whenever Rude cleared an area, people formed a sort of circle around it, gossiping and vying to see why they'd been forcibly evacuated. Most human beings, I had discovered while on the job, had morbid taste.

Then again, there was a giant wyvern on rampage in central Edge. No one could be blamed for not loitering close to the beast.

The monster set my teeth on edge, and it wasn't the horrible, shrill noises it was making or the fact that it looked like it could level the entire city by merely laying down. It had appeared out of nowhere, and that could only mean one of two things: first, that someone had a very powerful materia in his or her hands, and that person was not afraid to use it.

The second possibility was the scary one. I remembered fighting Ziconiaide as clearly as if I'd done it yesterday, and I could still see the materia fragments, trapped under skin, volatile, unstable. I shuddered at the thought, grateful that I'd already cleared the second warehouse and therefore ran no risk of blowing my cover with the gesture. I hadn't used or even laid hands on a single materia orb since that day, and I had no plans to do so in the future.

The third warehouse was as devoid of life as the first and second had been. By the fourth, I was feeling itchy and stupid. What if Felix had lied? I didn't know what I'd do then. I had the horrible feeling in my gut that this was my only chance: if I didn't find the President immediately, there wasn't going to be anything left to find.

Like the others, the fourth warehouse held no machinery. Dust and cobwebs hung in every corner, disturbed only by the vibrations that ran through the earth and made the walls tremble. As I moved from the second floor to the third, I noticed a bunch of threads caught on a splinter. There were numerous black ones, but only one white. The feeling in my stomach changed. Unlike the other buildings, someone had been there recently. I pulled out the unfortunate WRO officer's old gun, said a quick prayer, and continued my search.

I scaled the set of stairs to the fifth and final floor with trepidation. If anyone was in the building, it was the last place they could possibly be. I had searched every nook and cranny and found nothing but the threads as of yet. I shifted the gun in my hands, feeling vulnerable and scared. If push came to shove, I knew that the weapon wouldn't do any good. The remnants had disarmed and taken down Reno and Rude with ease when they had come to take the President. If I engaged in combat, my chances were slim.

Midday was nearing, and with the sun at its zenith in the sky, I had more shadows to work with than I could have had at any other time. I used them to my full advantage: I crept, low to the ground and invisible, along the walls, hardly breathing. It was a trick from the old days that I remembered well: when you regulated your breathing to an extreme, your pulse slowed, you calmed down, and you drew less attention to yourself. Rude had taught it to me after a mission gone bad while I was still a rookie. Even then, I had a reputation for knowing things I had no business knowing, and Rude had a girlfriend that he wanted to keep on the down low. He figured he was better off getting on my good side than risking me running my mouth.

I heard something skitter across the floor, and then a harsh, echoing laughter that I remembered from the Forgotten City. The sounds came from a room to my right that seemed to be flooded with light. I padded, nearly doubled over to reduce my profile, to the doorway and peered in.

The front wall of every other warehouse had been lined with tinted windows, but, in the fourth building, all of the glass had been knocked out and sunlight filed the room. Through the glare, I could only make out silhouettes, but it was enough. There was a tall, skinny man standing, and another man in a wheelchair. They were talking, almost as if they weren't watching a flying monstrosity tear the city apart before their eyes. My back twitched and throbbed as the standing man gestured wildly to articulate some point, and my arm threatened to collapse under the weight of my body. Afraid that I was going to scream, I stopped moving and slowed my breathing even further. I stayed still until I could trust myself not to screech in pain, and, assured that the worst had passed, I backed away from the bright room as slowly and silently as I came in.

When I got to the first floor, I pulled out my phone. It only rang once before I had an answer.

"Tanith, is that you? Where are you?"

"I found the President. He's at 37 Gaea Drive, Edge, on the top floor where all of the windows have been blown out. Come quickly."

I was walking and talking, and as I passed into the shadow of the fifth warehouse, my signal went haywire and I lost the connection. I heard a tone as the phone tried to restore the line, but it couldn't find the signal.

Stepping back from the fifth building, the signal returned, though the call had been lost. A step closer and it was gone. I pressed my ear to the wall of the fifth warehouse.

There it was. _Beep. Beep. Beep_. I could barely hear it over the ruckus caused by the monster, but it was there.

I pulled out the gun again and gingerly pushed in the door to the ground floor. I located the light switches, but all of the cords had been cut. After checking my corners and doing a general search of the floor, I returned to the wall that separated the interior from Gaea Drive and flattened myself against it, moving all along the stretch between the door and the perpendicular wall.

I felt the device before I saw it. Whoever designed it hadn't built in a backlight for the panel, so I didn't see a telltale glow. When I knelt close to it, I recognized it as the source of the soft _beep_ noises. Wishing desperately for a pocket light, I ran my fingers lightly over it. There were a number of small buttons and several wires, each of which led in a different direction, away from the device. Following one with a finger, I walked the perimeter of the room until I reached a point about halfway into the building. There, the end of the wire was hooked up to another device. I felt around it and shuddered. Leaning forward to smell it, I knew right away what I'd walked into. The problem was going to be getting away.

"Hey, you!"

My hands were in the air faster than I could spin around to see who was talking.

"I thought we made it clear that you punks weren't welcome!" The man speaking to me stood in the door, blocking out most of the light. "When we said scram, we meant _run, motherfucker_."

He pulled me outside by one arm and tossed me forward with more force than necessary. I slipped and tumbled in the dirt, sliding away. He closed the gap between us and lifted me by my hair. I felt a rush of breath on my face as he gasped.

"_You_."

All too late I remembered the voice: he had been the man with the machine gun in Reeve's interrogation room. I had no time to react: a punch hit me hard in the gut and I doubled over, crying out. The hand that had my hair released, then came down on my spine. I went down immediately, my chin taking the fall for my face. Pain blossomed along my jawline, but, again, I had other things to worry about. The gun in my jacket skittered away before I could grab it, and I was lifted by the collar of my shirt and turned to face my attacker.

His face was a sight I would not forget. His lips were round and full, almost like a woman's, and his nose was slight and upturned. His eyebrows were meticulously kept, and his cheekbones were high. His eyes, though, made the picture sinister: the hatred that radiated from his irises was unmistakably strong, almost unbearably so.

For a brief moment, the WRO soldier's face melted into Tseng's. I was back in the hallway, just leaving President ShinRa's office, feeling shaky and disquieted. My services were no longer required.

Fingers constricted around my neck. Tseng flickered before my eyes as I rose above the ground, lifted with a single hand by my assailant.

"You've got a lot to pay for, ShinRa bitch." I grasped at his hand and kicked and flailed, but it did no good. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled mess. He brought me down to his level, bringing my face close to his. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" His fingers clasped my throat at a different angle that enabled me to speak.

"No cats," I managed, my hands fumbling. He looked down too late to stop me. "Snake got your gun."

I shot him once in the stomach, and when he fell backwards, I, too, dropped, reeling away from him. With a savage roar, he got up to charge, but I shot him again in the shoulder, then in the chest. No single shot was clean, and he was howling in pain, His shrieks melded into the sound of the wyvern in the air, and as the beast passed overhead, they were indistinguishable.

"Did you even know him?" I demanded, picking up my other gun. The WRO soldier was still screaming. "His name was Jason, wasn't it? Is that what this is about?"

The WRO man stopped screaming and panted, his eyes wild and wet. "Who's Jason?"

He stumbled on his hands and knees, but his injured shoulder gave way and he plummeted back into the dust. I watched him for a few seconds, the blood dripping from most of his wounds and spurting from one; only one artery had been hit, then.

"You didn't come out here alone," I stated, pointing both guns at him. "Where are the others? How do you disable the device?"

He laughed at me. "I'll…never tell."

And he didn't. He died instead.

Stepping away from the shadow of the fifth warehouse, I called Tseng again but he didn't answer. Calling Reno yielded the same result. I was alone.

There was only one thing to be done. I searched the man's body for a light and was not disappointed. I ran back into the fifth warehouse and shined the light on the device.

It was beeping louder and faster now. There was a countdown timer. _1:20_. _1:19. 1:18_. I followed one of the wires yet again just to be sure of what I was dealing with. What I found made my blood pump harder in my chest than the fight had. There were six bombs, each wired to the same timer, possibly more if each wire connected to more than one. I didn't care to think about what would happen when they went off.

Returning to the timer, I knelt in the dirt and began examining the device. My heart was pounding in my ears, and I wondered if I was going deaf from all of the sounds around me. I looked at each button carefully. They were all the same color and size: no indications there. I counted them and discovered that there were six. I had to assume that they were in some way connected to the individual bombs and decided not to touch them at all. I pushed on the countdown display, not expecting results.

"Input password."

The mechanized voice was childish and airy. Coming from a bomb, it was more than ridiculous. The countdown disappeared, and in its place were eight blank spaces. I ran my fingers over the six keys, not knowing what to do.

"Password incorrect. Two tries left."

The blanks flashed in front of me again. "How do you do it?" I demanded, my palms sweating from fear. Letters appeared in the blanks. It was a voice command, then.

"Password incorrect. Just one try left."

The blanks flashed before my eyes. I thought of WRO, and Reeve. Even assuming that the men weren't acting on his orders, this was his technology. It would be his password; it had to be.

I opened my mouth and said the only thing I could possibly guess the password to be.

"Cait Sith."

"Access granted!"

The black buttons light up, the password screen went away, and the countdown timer froze. _0:13_. That was cutting it a little close.

I worked fast, even without the timer beeping at me. I disabled the wires connecting the timer to the bombs before cutting each wire physically. I couldn't remove the bombs from their places on the walls, though; I didn't trust myself to handle the explosive material. That was Rude's area of expertise, not mine.

With the timer disabled, the wireless signal to my phone was no longer jumbled. I sent both Reno and Tseng a short message: "Fifth Gaea Drive warehouse rigged to blow. WRO bombs. No timer. Come quick."

Just when I was starting to calm down, I heard more voices outside.

"He's still out here? It'll blow any second!"

"He's been shot!"

"His gun's gone. Who did this? Do we have surveillance?"

I peeked out through the open door. There were at least ten WRO soldiers out there, their uniforms tattered and their guns stripped of any number that might have traced them. Even from a distance, I could see the scratches in the metal: these men were out for something, and it wasn't part of their standard day jobs.

"Search the area. He can't have gotten far, whoever he is."

"He'll pay for this."

I didn't need further provocation. I ran to the back end of the warehouse and found a side door that opened to the alleyway between the fifth and sixth warehouses. I slid between them, moving as quickly as possible, until I found the door to the sixth and ran in without a second thought.

I tore over the empty floor out the front door, kicking up dust. There were two officers coming my way, but I was invisible in the cloud I'd made. My phone made a noise, but there was no time to check it. Behind me there was an explosion, then another, and then another. I was running again, as fast as I possibly could, the fiery inferno roaring and screaming. It bit at my heels as heat seared my back, but I was just out of reach. The fire couldn't touch me anymore; it just didn't know it yet.


	16. Chapter 16

_Two Weeks Later_

My body felt weak and thin, but I couldn't do anything about it. I could hardly eat, much less sleep, and the injuries I had sustained in the short brawl with the WRO soldier refused to heal quickly. Between those and the _thing_ on my back, I found that I could only get a few hours of rest at a time. Even if the pain didn't wake me, the nightmares did.

I was staying at a chocobo farm situated to the southeast of Edge. After fleeing the explosion, the cause of which I didn't know, I had stolen a truck from a filthy drunk and driven out of the city without stopping for anyone. I had, at first, set out for Healen Lodge, thinking only to get help for my Geostigma. When I remembered what was there, though, I forked east, driving along the base of the mountains, until I stumbled across the farm entirely by accident. I looked like hell when I arrived: I was caked in dirt, blood and sweat; my jacket was torn at both sleeves, my period had started, my stomach was cramped to the point that I walked hunched over, and there were bruises all over my body and neck from where I'd been hit. The farmer took one look at me and gave me a room and food for free and permission to stay as long as I needed.

When I awoke in the middle of the night, as I had every night over the past two weeks, I covered my mouth and curled into a ball. I was sweating and trembling as if the dream had been real. I grasped one of the wooden bedposts to remind myself how it felt to actually touch something. The dreams woke me up, but reacquainting myself with what was real and what was not was always hard.

The dreams started out relatively harmless. In one, it was just Veld, Tseng, and I having coffee whilst discussing my ShinRa application. In the dream, I had to go to the bathroom, but I didn't get up to go because I feared that I would make a bad impression. I was brought cup after cup of coffee until my bladder couldn't take it anymore and I finally asked if I could be excused. At that point, Tseng told Veld, "You see, I told you she wasn't cut out for this."

As time wore on, though, the silliness disappeared from the dreams, and I began to see visions of Nibelheim. Though some featured the night when Sephiroth came for Jenova, most often I dreamt of Zack Fair's great escape. Rather than lowering his sword on the ravine trail, he ran Cissnei through and left her to die. Every time, she spotted me where I lurked in the darkness and cried out to me for help. I tried to heal her, but the materia shattered in my hand. Cissnei died, the materia corrupted my body the way it had Elfé's, and there was no one to save either of us from the darkness that surrounded us. In those dreams, I always noticed black birds circling overhead, making endless figure-eights under the pretense of eternity.

That was the dream I had just woken up from. I shook my head to clear away the look of pain on Cissnei's face, the horrible pallor that was cast over her skin in the moonlight.

Instead, I tried to focus on the children sleeping in the next room. I summoned their images to my mind and thought of them smiling and laughing to calm myself down. There were two kids on the farm, a little boy and girl. The farmer's grandchildren, they reminded me, in age only, of Denzel and Marlene. I hoped that fortune had favored those children better than it had me.

I had received no word of what was happening or had happened in Edge. Furthermore, I contacted no one. If I never saw the city again, I wouldn't be sad.

My hands were clammy, and the air was frigid. Winter was beginning to settle in after a long summer season, and I didn't like it. I hadn't grown up with cold. Even buried under more wool blankets than I could count, my body felt frozen and shaky. I tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but the moment I put pressure on my left shoulder, I was sitting up and gasping for air. There could be no more sleep after that.

Wide awake at two twenty-four in the morning, I stepped into the kitchen looking for some kind of relief. My throat was dry from hacking, so I fetched myself a glass of water and drank it leaning against the island in the middle of the room. That was one benefit of contracting Geostigma: I could have whatever I wanted to drink and run no risks. I guzzled the water greedily, taking deep breaths in between large gulps. Not even pure black water could do me any harm.

I had a peculiar feeling of being watched, the same as I'd had for the past few nights. I had told the farmer about it, but he had called it plain paranoia. There wasn't anyone around for miles, he told me, unless they were staying on the farm. That had reassured me, to an extent, until I thought of ShinRa and WRO. There were no limits on them.

After dressing in some clothes that used to belong to the farmer's daughter, I took the stolen WRO guns out of the dresser where I'd stashed them for safekeeping. I slid one in each pants pocket, taking care with the safeties, before venturing outside. The chocobos had been ushered into the stables for the night, and their pen was empty. It felt strange not to see them milling about, chomping on grass and squawking at each other.

Turning away from the eerily empty pen, I boosted myself up so that I could sit on the edge of the stable roof. The stars were hard to see, but there was no moon to light up the sky and if I squinted I could make out a few constellations. I traced them with an outstretched finger, hearing my mother's voice in my head. When I was little, she used to name them for me, pronouncing the difficult words endlessly until I could recite them for myself.

"Does the country air take your mind off of it?"

I closed my eyes and smiled. The twin weights resting on my thighs were reassuring even though I knew the speaker would do me no harm.

"What brings you out here, Reeve? I was expecting someone else." The ex-Executive walked openly, not bothering to disguise the sound of his boots against the grass. He placed a hand on the chocobo pen and looked up at me. In his hands was a little doll in the shape of a cat that I remembered seeing once, years ago.

"Cait Sith," I said, the unusual syllables rolling off my tongue. "A curious name. I had all but forgotten. Is that your customary password?"

Reeve shrugged, holding the doll close to his chest. "No." His voice was honest. "It is, however, the password for all non-programmed equipment. Until now, only I knew it."

"Are you trying to tell me something? Perhaps why some of your boys decided that it was a good idea to blow up President ShinRa and everyone in the surrounding area?"

"I'm trying to say that the bombs were stolen," he said, keeping his voice under control. "After I let you go, the men were furious. When a helicopter went missing, they blamed you and ran off. You proved too difficult to chase, but they found Kester easily enough. Unfortunately, by the time I managed to get Vincent to him, he'd already talked. The results, I believe, you know."

"No, I don't, as a matter of fact." I swung my legs over the side of the building, allowing them to dangle in the open air.

Reeve perched on the fence, setting the toy beside him. "You mean you weren't there?"

"I was there. I disabled the timer but didn't trust myself with disarming the bombs. It's been awhile since I last had to do something like that, and the stakes were too high, so I left word with Reno and Tseng and got the hell out of there. Reeve, what happened?"

He twiddled with the crown on his doll before answering. "Kadaj was controlling the monster in an attempt to discover the location of Jenova's head-something he did, by the way. Rufus ShinRa had it with him the entire time." Reeve sounded bitter and angry. I couldn't see him very clearly, but my vision was good enough to tell that his fists were clenched too tightly. "Rufus attempted to dispose of the head by tossing it off the side of the building. Kadaj responded by attacking with a fire-based materia. That sparked the bombs in the rest of the area. Before you ask, I know these details because several dozen eyewitnesses could attest."

"Did they make it out? The President and the remnant? What about the WRO officers?"

"Yes, unfortunately, both President ShinRa and Kadaj escaped the blaze. Rufus was caught in free fall by Tseng and Elena. That was your work, I presume." I confirmed nothing, waiting for him to continue. Listening to him speak distracted me from the pain in my shoulder. "Kadaj landed on his feet, miraculously enough, and survived. He escaped with Jenova and became Sephiroth." My back stiffened and my palms went damp. "Don't worry. Cloud already took care of the situation. There's nothing to worry about.

"As for the officers, no bodies were found, but no one that close could have escaped that blaze. It took a full day just to put it out."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Well then. We're back to where we were at the beginning of this mess. Now we just need a cure for Geostigma."

"That's far from the last thing we need, but we have that, now, too," Reeve interjected eagerly. "The Sector Five Church in Midgar is flooded with it. People from all over Gaia are flocking there as we speak." Reeve stretched out his hand. "That, of course, brings me to the purpose of my visit. Vincent told me about your…affliction. I can help remedy that, if you'll let me."

"You keep pretty close to Mr. Valentine, don't you?"

Reeve's hand lowered. "I do, yes."

"Why?" I watched as Reeve dropped his hand altogether. "What's so special about him? He's not on your payroll, yet you run everything through him, or so it seems." Reeve was fidgeting, and I zeroed in on my conclusion. "Or, maybe it's just that you don't trust your own people, that you haven't trusted them for some time now and have felt the need to act on the outside of your own organization. You're afraid, aren't you?"

"Maybe it's just that he's a liar and a traitor who wants ShinRa back as much as you do."

I turned to face the new voice immediately. Reeve froze in place, acutely aware of his exposed position. I, too, couldn't find a suitable reaction. There was no place to hide.

"Look what we've got here," the speaker said, stepping out of the shadows. "A runaway director and the ShinRa bitch he helped off the hook." I didn't recognize the speaker, but from his ragged appearance and singed uniform, I guessed that he was one of the ones who had planted the bomb. "You let her get away with killing Jason and now you're going to cure her, after she wrecked the plan for the old ShinRa president? After she killed Bruce? And don't think we don't know it was you, girl. We were keeping a watch on those white-haired freaks, and none of them did it. But you're not getting away this time. I don't think so."

"There was no plan," Reeve shot back, furious. "I told all men to stand down and take cover. You disobeyed your order, soldier."

"Wait a second. I recognize your voice," I said, talking over Reeve. The angrier he made the man, the worse the situation would get. After what had allegedly happened in Edge, there was no way the soldier would have come alone. "You were in the interrogation room."

The man nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Me and Bruce. You've got a good memory. I'm afraid it won't be doing you too much good for long." He pointed a semiautomatic in my general direction. "I'm not going to shoot if you cooperate. We need you alive-both of you." The WRO officer's gaze flickered between Reeve and I. I wouldn't have noticed if the moon hadn't come out from behind a passing cloud for just a moment. I wrinkled my forehead in thought. _Wait a second._ "Now you, get down from there. Walk over to me, hands out in front of you. No funny business."

After racking my brain for a few seconds, I slid off of the roof slowly so as not to hurt myself and walked to him. He stepped back as I continued moving forward, my head tilted in what I hoped looked like a cocky gesture. I put my hands in the air, not in front of me, and grinned maniacally.

"No funny business," he warned again, gesturing with the gun. I made a show of pouting. "Hands out in front of you, now."

"Aw, but that's no fun. I've never been partial to handcuffs." I didn't put my hands down. I didn't see another glimpse of the "moon", but I could hear a soft whirring, nearly inaudible over the chirps of crickets and the screeches of the cicadas.

Reeve saw what I was up to and followed my example. He began to walk, his hands in the air, toward the officer. I was not disappointed: the ex-WRO officer turned his gun on Reeve as if to shoot, and I had my opening.

I started by stepping in and smashing his jaw with my raised elbow, then followed up with a low kick to both of his kneecaps. Hyperextended and falling forward after overcompensating to keep his balance, he attempted to turn the gun on me, but I moved fast. I landed a wild haymaker to the solar plexus followed by a long fist between two ribs, then finished with a short jab between his vertebrae.

All told, the fight lasted only a few seconds and ended with the WRO soldier unconscious on the ground, groaning in the dirt. I looked down at my hands, my knuckles feeling bruised and horrible. The more I was forced to fight, the more I remembered from my training days.

"That was impressive." I turned to face Reeve. He was eying the man on the ground as if he were a particularly distasteful cut of meat. I bit my lip as I looked to the unconscious man. A sack of meat-99% oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorous, with an electric current running through it all. An electrocuted bag of meat that could decompose and _rot_ and…

My shoulder was burning and my eyes weren't working properly. I was seeing green and blue and black designs, glowing and mutating with each passing second. The world spun, and I hit the ground with a thud.

"Breathe through it," Reeve ordered. He stood at my side, holding my arm and back. I stared at him, open mouthed, still reeling. He actually did look worried.

"I don't feel well."

"You don't look it, either. Here, sit down. Don't bother with him; after what you did, he won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Reeve propped me up against a tree, rubbing the Geostigma thoughtfully. My vision was so dimmed that I couldn't differentiate his blue coat from the dark sky. "You aren't afraid of infection?"

He smiled at me then in a way I had never seen: it was a look full of nostalgia and memories. There was no bitterness, but plenty of sadness. Perhaps there was a little regret, too. "Oh, no. No, I'm not afraid of that." The smile lingered for only a few moments longer before it vanished into the lines of his face.

I tried to get up, but Reeve was stronger than he looked. "Don't push yourself," he ordered."

"You ought to listen to him. Take it from me, moving around in your state is hardly conducive to good health."

As if on command, both Reeve and I froze in our respective positions. The figure walking toward us positively glowed. Clad in nearly all white from head to toe, he stuck out against the darkness as if he'd taken light from the sun itself. When I saw his face, I shut my eyes and wished I could just sink into the ground. I didn't hear the fabric of Reeve's coat even rustle with movement.

"I heard you've been looking for me, Reeve."


	17. Chapter 17

"I'd say it's a pleasure to see you after all these years, but I'm afraid that simply wouldn't be true."

In the darkness he shone like a beacon, and I could see him as clearly as if he stood in broad daylight. Up close, I had to marvel: his collar had been ironed, the seams in the cuffs of his pants were straight and unbroken, and his hair and skin were unblemished. He was every inch the man he had been before ShinRa had fallen.

In the state I was in, had I not known him, I might have mistaken Rufus ShinRa for an angel. A furious, predatory angel, but an angel nonetheless.

"Rufus ShinRa." Reeve breathed loudly, failing to hide his awe. He, too, saw the blinding white in the darkness of the night.

"Yes, I am alive." Rufus pushed the hair out of his face, smiling maliciously. I saw his father in that smile. "As are you. Pity, that." Reeve's eyes had clouded over, and he couldn't find the words to say.

"We intercepted a number of men bearing uniforms with the letters 'WRO' swarming the area. I'm afraid they were armed and dangerous and had to be taken care of. That insignia wouldn't mean anything to you, would it?"

Reeve nodded slowly, allowing his eyes to fall to the scrap of fabric in Rufus's hand. It had been ripped from a uniform in the not-too-distant past. Dark, wet stains made an irregular polka dot pattern over the threads, and I wasn't jaded enough to think them the result of a Geostigma attack.

"Yes," Reeve spoke. "The World Regenesis Organization is my project. I would speak with you about it."

"You want me to become affiliated with a group that even now seeks to supplant you?" Rufus's eyes were merciless.

Reeve retorted, "There is much work to be done."

Drawing thin lips across perfect teeth, Rufus pulled out another sinister smile. "Indeed, there is much to speak of. Come. Elena will assist Tanith in collecting her belongings." The blonde woman appeared out of nowhere from the trees and approached me. To her, Rufus said, "And hurry. The fewer who take notice of our presence, the better."

I couldn't stand by myself. My energy and verve had drained away the moment I sat down. Without a word, Elena hoisted me up off the ground and supported my weight as I staggered back to the farmhouse. I was always fairly light in terms of weight, but she held me up as if I were nothing.

"You don't happen to train with weights, do you? Martial arts, maybe?" I questioned. Elena said nothing, her eyes fixed on the dark house. I was grateful for the lack of lights; it meant that no one had heard the ruckus and was awake to ask questions.

We went in through the kitchen, moving carefully side-by-side through the narrow hall. Once in the room I'd been using, I collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily.

"It wasn't this bad before," I said conversationally. "Maybe I shouldn't sit down." Elena began grabbing things at random, bunching everything up in her arms. I grabbed for her hands to stop her. "Those aren't mine," I explained. "Let me get changed and then we'll go."

She looked at me with those eyes of hers for a few moments before allowing her gaze to fall to the shirt in her hands. Rubbing the fabric between her fingers, I watched her debate something internally. Her facial expression hardly shifted from one of excessive apathy.

Making her decision, she set the bundle she'd amassed aside and took up a post at the door. She blocked it off as if she were twice as big of a girl. I noticed, not with some sadness, that her back was to me. When she stood like that, she looked like her sister when I'd seen her for the last time, getting ready to board a helicopter that would take her to exile. There were too many emotions in the stance to classify it properly.

I slipped out of the clothes the farmer had given me and once more donned my tattered Turk uniform. As I did so, I ran my hand over my bandaged shoulder, wincing as I put pressure on the black lesion. The more I tried to move my arm, the worse the pain became.

In the kitchen, I scribbled a note to the farmer. I emptied my wallet of all of the gil I had and set it on top of the letter before allowing Elena to lead me back out into the fields where the helicopters were grounded. The ShinRa chopper would have been impossible to see if the floodlight on the front hadn't been turned on.

"Thank you," I said to Elena. "I assume you were the one flying the thing." She didn't even look at me. "I haven't thought about that little drill in so long, I nearly forgot." When an operative on ground is in danger and cannot be contacted, the helicopter light will flash very briefly once. Arms down if in danger, hands up if the situation is under control. Standard protocol, straight out of the manual. Elena still refused to make a single noise. I couldn't even hear her breathing.

She helped me settle into one of the seats in the back before disappearing into the pilot's cabin. As she opened the door, I caught a glimpse of Tseng in the other seat. In the handful of seconds that I could see him, he neither shifted nor turned. Then, the door had been shut, and I heard the sound of a latch being drawn.

I might as well have talked to the air for all I could get out of Elena. There was only one person who wanted to speak with me, I supposed, or else he wouldn't have been there at all. I addressed him curtly: "Where's Reeve?"

"He'll be returning to Junon via a different aircraft: his own, as a matter of fact. He's in good hands, in case you were worried." I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. The tone he used to address me was different from the one I'd heard him take with Reeve.

"And us?"

"We're in the capable hands of Tseng and Elena. From what I gather, you were instrumental in getting them to the city in time. I commend your work. I have to say, I'm also impressed. I didn't think you could hold your own in a fistfight. You haven't completely lost your touch."

The blond man was seated directly across from me. His feet were planted next to each other and his hands were clasped firmly. If he had a desk, I would have guessed he was an interviewer. I felt the chopper leave solid ground and held onto my seat for the beginning of the ascent.

"I do hope you don't have any lingering fears," Rufus commented dryly. "We'll be keeping the doors to the aircraft closed."

"I'm not afraid of helicopters, President ShinRa, sir."

"When what are you afraid of, Tanith? You seem to be shaking. It is chilly in here, but perhaps that isn't the problem. Tell me, are you still infected?" I resisted the urge to rub my shoulder. It tingled and burned, and the more I thought about it, the worse the sensations became. "We'll have to fix that. You're no good dead."

I hadn't decided how I was supposed to address him yet. He was my boss's son-my ex-boss's son, I had to keep reminding myself. I didn't work for him. He held no leverage over me, except for the fact that he had me cornered and alone in an aircraft somewhere over the eastern continent.

Rufus recrossed his legs in the other direction as the silence between us grew. "Tanith, Tanith," Rufus chided. His voice sounded as if he were smiling, but his face showed otherwise. "What are we going to do with you?" He tapped his forefinger against the metal helicopter seat just as he had done with his wheelchair.

"I see that you're moving quite well, sir," I said, trying to divert the conversation. My cheeks were burning at my obvious efforts to keep the talk away from myself. "You're walking again," I added lamely.

He nodded, going along with my tangent for the moment. "Yes. Geostigma is the body's reaction to certain foreign cells. The body attempts to eliminate the cells, overcompensates, and ultimately destroys itself. In the process, tissue breaks down rapidly. Those muscles used most often or most strenuously are the first to go. With the cure, those muscles are restored. We're not clear yet just how it works, but it's proven most effective."

I decided that I needed a different approach. "What were you doing, running marathons? Don't tell me that you're actually capable of feeling pain." The words felt false and forced in my mouth, to say nothing of how they actually sounded.

Rufus tilted his head, an unusual, somehow dangerous expression playing across his face. Was he actually amused? "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"What, you never heard the rumors? I always thought you spread them yourself. They said that no one had ever seen you cry or bleed, that your physical, mental, and emotional barriers were impenetrable. They thought you were a god."

He made a sound that sounded like a strangled laugh, and my first thought was that I'd overstepped my boundaries. He wasn't looking at me anymore: His gaze was fixated on a little shelf at the back of the chopper. "Is that what they thought." His voice was bland, nearly robotic. "And who was this 'they'?"

My mind raced to mend the damage I perceived that I'd done. I could have stroked his ego and told him that I'd believed it: that even when the other Turks and I had rescued Rufus, I had noticed that he had been pristine, as if he were untouchable. He had been so impressively unshaken that I had wondered whether or not it was all some grand trick designed to make our company branch look bad.

But that's not what I did. I shrugged and said, "I don't know, sir. Everyone." Rufus made a noise of disapproval, and I knew he felt my answer to be inadequate. Even so, I did not elaborate.

"That's the past, Tanith," Rufus spoke quietly. "I am no god, and I am certainly not untouchable."

"Just lucky, then," I said before I could stop myself.

"No. Just weak." His eyes were unfocused and glassy as he remembered something he did not share with me. "But, as I said, that's the past. Neither of our pasts should interfere with the current situation."

Shivers ran up my arms. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, sir."

"Tseng told me what happened not long after my dealings with AVALANCHE came to a close. I believe he also informed Veld and the girl. What was her name again? Ah, yes. She operated under the name 'Cissnei' after she was hired." I wished the helicopter blades were louder; then they might have drowned out his words. As it was, there was no way to escape. I was having this conversation with this man whether I liked it or not. "You didn't think he would remain silent, did you? I believe the present Turks are all aware of your activities, though I cannot speak for those who were summarily 'executed'. There was no need for them to know, after all."

I couldn't find it in me to feel surprised that Rufus knew. Even as a child, he had known most of what ShinRa did, and his father looked on him with disdain for it. But Reno? Rude? Even Elena?

"Why didn't they say anything?"

"Orders," Rufus answered sharply, emphasizing the stupidity of my question. "I believe that is a reason you know well. It seems those orders have been most useful. Tell me, Tanith, would you have been so quick to contact Reno if you had suspected that he knew?" The answer didn't need to be spoken aloud to be mutually understood: Reno held grudges, and he never forgot an injury, personal or otherwise.

"Why do you want a traitor on your team?"

"I find it obvious. We both have pasts that we want to put behind us for the betterment of our world." Rufus was mocking me, I was sure, but the sincerity of his voice was nearly enough to cloud all reason. "You wanted to be a Turk, and when you weren't accepted, you proved your loyalty to the company instead. You're exactly the kind of agent ShinRa needs now." I didn't say anything at all. "Come on, Tanith. Though the Turks have expressed a great personal loyalty to me in recent months, you know that, were Veld to make a stand against me, they would likely defect once more. You made yourself ShinRa's most versatile ally. I would be loathe to lose that."

I couldn't hold back the smile on my face. I was mortified-horrified-beyond all expectations. "You want me to do what I did for your father. You want me to spy on the people who have saved your life time and time again because of some ridiculous paranoia that an old man with a prosthetic arm is going to rise against you."

"Don't be ridiculous, and never mention my father or his plans in my presence again." Rufus's tone was final. "I understand that you hold your own actions in contempt. It's not the interior I wish for you to watch: all I ask is that you keep an eye on certain rising organizations. I mean to protect the investments that must be made."

I felt as if I were being strangled. "Sir? You're committing to helping WRO?"

"There are few other viable options at this point. ShinRa cannot reemerge directly and expect to make any decent changes. Reeve has the idealism to appeal to the masses-all he needs now is money and the fear of the populace. We can give him that."

I took a deep breath, allowing Rufus's information to permeate my thoughts. "What did Reeve say to you, sir?"

"You don't believe that, prior to my speaking with him, I planned to support his little project."

"No, I don't, sir."

"Perceptive. I'll ask a question to answer yours: do you know why Reeve went out to the middle of nowhere to find you?"

"No, sir."

Rufus put on his short and thin smile once more. "It was your detective work, as a matter of fact. Finding Cloud Strife is no mean feat, I must say. And, as Reeve explained to me, there have been…disappearances."

"With all due respect, sir, people go missing all the time. That's the world we live in."

"My thoughts exactly. However, this is rather different. In recent months, he has sent many of his volunteer soldiers to Midgar in search of ShinRa weapons and research." Rufus pursed his lips ever so slightly. It was ironic, considering how much he detested his father, that most of his gestures were direct imitations of the dead man. "Few have returned."

While he spoke, I realized that I'd unconsciously leaned over, my elbows resting on my knees as I clasped my hands. "Where were they digging? I was in Midgar recently and didn't see anyone."

"Sector Zero, mostly, though they've been looking all around," Rufus replied dismissively.

I stared at his polished boots. "Is there anything to find?" Rufus made no response. "President ShinRa, sir?"

Looking back up to him, I saw that his eyes were closed. He looked old, for lack of a better word. His skin, though obviously well-kept and moisturized, was pale and sickly. Wearing that white suit, he could easily have passed for a ghost.

"ShinRa owes the planet a great debt. But, in addition to that, it's people…" He waved his hand as if to clear the air. "Perhaps this isn't the time. Reeve wanted to hire you as an investigator. I wish for something similar. In the end, we both want the same thing: the restoration of our glorious world."

I felt a sharp jerk, and my hands instinctively grabbed the metal seat. It took me a few moments to realize that the aircraft had landed. I had been too preoccupied to even notice that we were making a decent.

"I'll not force your hand, Tanith." Rufus sounded soft and inviting. "If you want to leave, I'll not stop you, nor will you hear from any of us ever again, should you not wish it. But I ask you now: rejoin ShinRa for a better tomorrow. Cast aside your exile. Come back to us. We need you, Tanith. More than ever."


	18. Chapter 18

The longer I remained silent, the slower time seemed to pass. Rufus was staring, waiting for an answer. The helicopter blades overhead slowed down, pushing air with low thumping sounds at irregular intervals. Elena and Tseng didn't make a sound from within the pilot's cabin. Outside, the sky was black and studded with stars that seemed farther away than ever before. If my mind hadn't been racing, I might have guessed that everything in the world had come to a standstill.

I could rejoin ShinRa. That possibility had never truly occurred to me. I had desperately wanted to be taken back, but I hadn't believe it to be possible, so I hadn't spent much time thinking about it. Maybe I could find salvation there.

Rufus was still waiting, and something he had mentioned earlier hit my ears for the first time: _"…all he needs now is money and the fear of the populace"_. He said that the past was past, but he also said that he was weak. I looked at the man in the white suit with fresh eyes.

I believed him when he said that he wanted to create a better world; I really did. But I knew that he was going to do it for the wrong reasons. He had had a scare, and now he wanted to reverse course. I thought of Reeve, the executive with more emotional an psychological baggage than any other ShinRa employee, and for the first time, I had a feeling that his World Regenesis Organization, unmanageable though it seemed, might be the best course.

I swallowed the saliva in my mouth and cleared my throat as I organized my thoughts. "You know, sir," I said, trying to keep my voice from going tight, "it's probably in my file, but I didn't have a great relationship with my parents, either. My father left when I was very young, and my mother was stuck with me. She always told me I looked like my father. She couldn't really like me because of that."

"Tanith, I fail to see how this relates-"

"My father had been a ShinRa employee. When he didn't come home one day, she called the company, and they covered for him. Wouldn't tell her where he was. Of course, she found out-about the mistress in Costa del Sol, about what, exactly, he had done in the labs. When I got older and wanted to join ShinRa, she could have killed me."

Rufus didn't say another word. I couldn't tell if he was paying attention or not, but I had started talking and I knew I couldn't stop. It was funny to think about: of all of the people I had imagined having that conversation with, Rufus ShinRa had not been one of the options.

"Even though she didn't love me, even though I was a disappointment because I wasn't pretty and I had determined that a career with ShinRa was in my future, my mother still tried. I resented her for it because I thought she was trying to unmake me, but she persisted. One thing she always used to do to try to prove to both of us that she loved me, she would tell me stories. Bedtime stories."

The helicopter blades had stopped rotating entirely. The cabin was still freezing from the high altitudes, but I felt it depressurize, the air vents opening to the atmosphere. Air from the outside flowed in and down the walls, rushing over my prickling skin in waves.

"There was this one," I spoke, trying to ignore my discomfort, "about a little girl who is warned not to pick apples from this tree. But the apples look delicious, so she picks one and eats it. It doesn't taste special, but she finishes it off and goes home. When her mother finds out, she's furious and insists that she never to go near the apples again. So, of course, the next day, the little girl goes out and eats another apple. This continues for weeks until, one day, there's a monster sitting at the base of the apple tree.

"The monster tells her, 'I am the guardian of the forbidden apple tree. Whoso eats these apples is a monster like me!'

"And the little girl, afraid of the monster and its words, runs away. The monster chases her and brings all of its monster friends out as well. The little girl takes refuge in a deep forest, another place that her mother warned her against, and, finding herself lost, she starts to cry. She promises that, if she is allowed to escape from the monsters and the forest, she'll never eat the apples again.

"The little girl falls asleep and wakes up in her mother's house, safe and unharmed. Her prayers have been answered, and she is happy. But, after a little while, she begins to think about the apple tree. She tries to eat regular apples, but they don't satisfy her cravings.

"It isn't long before the monster appears outside of the house one night. It tells her, 'I am the guardian of the forbidden apple tree, and whoso eats my apples is a monster like me! Come, come with me and eat apples from my apple tree!

"She goes with the monster, and it takes her back to the apple tree and bids her to eat the apples. The little girl approaches the tree and picks an apple, but instead of eating it, she bruises the skin and breaks it open.

"She sees then that the apple is rotten from the inside: the white flesh is black and gooey, and the seeds inside have all germinated and grown moldy from the moisture. It might have tasted like a regular apple, but it was diseased and rotten, inside and out.

"The little girl throws the apple as far away from her as she can. She leaves then without taking eating anything, and the monster doesn't follow her. She sleeps in peace that night and, when she awakens in the morning, the tree and the monsters are gone. She is never bothered by them again."

My story finished, we sat in an increasingly awkward silence. If there had been cicadas in the city, I would have been able to hear them clearly.

"My apologies, Tanith," Rufus said finally, shifting in his place. "I'm afraid stories aren't my strong suit. Tell me, was that relevant, or are you simply trying to buy time? I assure you, if it's the latter, take all the time you need. None of us go anywhere until you make your decision."

"Mr. President, sir, do you mean it when you say you want to create a better world? That you want to do the right thing?"

"I do, Tanith. I was nearly killed by a WEAPON that emerged in no small part because of my company's actions. I will not make the same mistake again."

"Then, when I leave this helicopter, you won't give Tseng and Elena the order to fire at will?"

The seconds passed as hours. Rufus shut his eyes. Tension that I hadn't realized he'd been carrying left his shoulders, and he breathed loudly through his nose. He seemed to shrink into his seat as if I'd dispelled an illusion.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not going to go running to Reeve and WRO," I said softly. "I'm not going to talk to anyone about what happened, about what's still happening within ShinRa. I won't hinder your work, but I won't help you, either. It will be the same as with the others. It's about time I admitted that I'm officially unemployed."

The small, sharp smile I'd been hoping to see on Rufus's face never materialized. Instead, he waved dismissively at the door, looking impassive and inhuman."

"Tseng was right, after all. We should have left you alone. As promised, you will not be contacted. As you say, you will have the same agreement as before. I trust you know your way out."

That was good enough. I walked to Rufus and slid the metal door open. The Turks had landed on a short, two-story building near the center of Edge. I could see twinges of orange on the horizon in the east where the sun was preparing to rise.

"Good-bye, Rufus."

* * *

I sat on a bench across from the ice cream shop where I'd once taken a call from Felix Kester, waiting patiently for my ride. Pigeons had gathered in front of me, bobbing their heads and calling to each other as if I hadn't been there at all. I wondered lazily if I actually was there. I found it hard to believe that I was still living my life.

The motorcycle that pulled up scared all of the birds away, and they took to wing in a rush of feathers and squawks. The rider, helmet-less as he was, was easily recognizable. "Would you be Tanith Drake?" he asked, proffering a hand.

I nodded, standing. "That's right. You're Cloud Strife? Pleasure to finally meet you."

He drove me to Seventh Heaven and left moments later, explaining that he had a number of deliveries to make. Before going, though, he placed a kiss on the cheek of the woman sitting at the bottom of the stairs and offered her a wide smile.

Tifa stood and looked on at the dust Cloud's motorcycle kicked up as he drove away. "He's changed," she remarked, looking down the street. "I'm glad."

"I'm sorry," I said, unable to properly respond. "I only got back into the city this morning. I couldn't think of anyone else to call. I'm at a bit of a crossroads, you see."

"I'm glad you did. I wanted to repay you for bringing him back to me. Reno said you helped find Marlene and Denzel, too." My face darkened at the mention of the Turk. "He also said that you weren't affiliated with them anymore. Is that what you meant when you said that you're 'at a crossroads'?"

I shrugged. "Yes. Technically speaking, I haven't been affiliated with anyone for some time. That's the problem: I'm broke, unemployed, without clothes, and without a ride. I'm not looking for a handout or-"

Tifa placed a finger over my lips. When she smiled, I couldn't help but feel reassured. "Your outlook isn't so grim as you think. Come around back and let me show you."

I let the woman lead me around the side of the bar and into the back of the lot. We stood on the edge of a cement pad surrounded by buildings, accessible only by narrow alleyways. She unlocked a metal shed and turned on a light inside.

"Vincent left these here about two weeks ago," Tifa explained, gesturing. "He said they were yours. If it's all right with you, Cloud gave your bike a little tune-up, and the clothes are all clean." I ran my hand over the metal in disbelief. There was the motorcycle and the clothes I'd bought-all neatly folded and sitting right behind the bar.

"And this is from us-all of us," Tifa said, pressing a pouch into my hand. Recognizing what it was, I immediately began to protest, but she said, "Cloud and I agreed. Denzel might not remember you, but Marlene does, and so do we. Don't be a stranger, OK?" She pushed the bag into my hands until I relented and pocketed the money. "There's also an address and a number in there. A man named Joe and his prized black chocobo, Teioh, went missing just before a special race at the Gold Saucer. A friend of mine who also works there, a manager at the stables named Ester, is looking to hire someone to look into it on behalf of Gold Saucer. I told her you might be interested, and she said she's looking forward to meeting you."

I shook my head. "This is too much, Miss Lockheart."

"Call me Tifa. Come back if you ever need anything. Like I said, don't be a stranger."

"Tifa?"

"Yes?"

"There's just one more thing I want to ask."

* * *

Tifa offered to let me rest before I left, but I insisted that I had to go as soon as possible. She waved me off with a fond smile, and I couldn't help but hope that our paths might cross again.

It was noon when I reached the Midgar ruins. I had to take a long detour because I had found the old highway too badly damaged to use. Tifa had warned me, but I didn't believe her until I saw it. Something or someone had blasted the pavement to dust, and if the burn marks were any indication, I had to guess that someone had gotten a taste of ShinRa technology at its finest.

Remembering Rufus's remarks, I stayed alert when I got to the dead city, keeping my eyes peeled for anything that seemed suspicious. As before, however, the place was silent. The only sounds that reached my ears were the low hum of my motorcycle and the noise of the tires against the dirt.

I reached the Sector Five Church in what felt like record time after hitting Midgar's limits. I drove straight up to the decaying doors and dismounted. The doors had been propped open, and I entered cautiously.

All of the pews had been relocated to the sides of the room, leaving a wide open space in the middle of the church. Though none of the floorboards had been repaired, there were some planks over the rotted sections. Most noticeable, though, was the flowerbed. Where the lilies had once grown, there was a large pool of clear blue water. It radiated light as if it came from within, and I approached it instinctively.

Tifa had told me how it was done. She'd also offered to accompany me, but I'd declined the offer. It felt strangely personal, what I was about to do. I didn't want anyone around.

I slipped my denim store-bought jacket off of my shoulders and set it on the ground beside where I knelt. Then, pulling the straps of my undershirt and bra to the side, I peeled away the bandages covering the spreading black rash. It was oozing more than ever, nearly bubbling, as if it knew that its time had come and it wanted to inflict just a few more seconds of pain.

Using one hand, I scooped up some of the water and tossed it on the welt. The black goop sizzled as if it were cooking, turned green, and faded into the air and nonexistence. I continued putting more water on the area and rubbing it in until I knew that I'd covered every last millimeter of skin that the disease had corrupted.

Finished, I sat back on my heels and allowed my hands to drop to my sides. I could see my reflection in the rippling water. My long hair was getting to be too long, I decided. I needed to find myself a good barber. I saw my new clothes and my clean skin through the surface and I smiled at myself. My life was turning around.

I had a plan. First, I was going to go to Costa del Sol. That's where my father had been; that's where, as far as I knew, he still lived.

Cissnei would be there, too.

I told myself that the real reason for my visit to the sandy beaches was to see if I could find my father, but the lie was too transparent to stick. I could see the curly mop of orange hair in my mind alongside matching, hurt eyes. I had repaid my debt to Rufus ShinRa and the rest of the Turks by stopping the bombs in Edge from detonating too soon; I would atone for Cissnei through confession, in the open, where there could be no secrets. Everything would come undone, so long as she consented to even look at me. Beyond that, I could find solace in work.

I was going to go to the Gold Saucer to talk to Ester about the missing chocobo racer. I had already called her, and she was expecting me within the week. From the sound of it, the racer's disappearance was starting to cause widespread concern: I gathered that he was something of a celebrity. Finding him would establish a name for myself.

A thought crossed my mind then. I had had a name once, a given name: the name my parents had decided upon when I was born. As I spotted my reflection, I couldn't help but notice that I looked like the girl who once responded to that name without question.

But then I remembered: I hadn't cried when Banora had been razed. I had told myself that I didn't care. By the time I'd finally admitted that I did care and that I did miss my mother, I couldn't bring myself to shed a single tear. Too much time had passed, and I had spent too long repressing emotions to allow them to spring forth.

In short, I couldn't go back to the world before ShinRa, just like I couldn't go back to ShinRa itself. I could only move forward.

Resolved on my atonement at last, I stood up and turned to the door, only to draw back in shock. There was someone standing there.

She was younger than I, but she carried herself as if she were a much older woman. She smiled with her eyes and the corners of her mouth. The red ribbon in her hair fluttered gently in the wind, and her pink dress caressed her thighs.

I recognized her from long ago. The file had laid open on Tseng's desk for years, never moving, yet never gathering dust. He carried the picture around with him wherever he went. He thought no one knew about it, but I had always watched him, knowing how he mistrusted me. He valued that picture more than he would admit.

"Aeris," I breathed. She smiled and nodded at me.

"She's been waiting," the woman said. A vision of Cissnei popped into my mind. "Will you go see her?"

"I will," I said. "Aeris, Tseng, he always-"

She didn't give me a chance to finish my thought. With a sad expression, she turned to the outside and was engulfed in sunlight. When I walked out after her, I found that she was gone without a trace. I looked up to the blue sky.

"He always carried you with him, Aeris. He still does." I looked down at my hands and thought for a long time. I couldn't possibly have seen her: Aeris was dead.

Tseng would never be able to make his atonement with her.

"I can fix this," I said aloud. "I'm going right now. I won't wait any longer."

I could have sworn that the sky shimmered at my proclamation. Mounting the motorcycle, I took one last look around the ruins of Midgar. Then, I, ex-Turk Tanith Drake, drove out of the city and across the wasteland, moving steadily toward a brighter future.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, here we are, at the end of all things. This chapter was the hardest for me to write; endings are the worst for me.

But there it is: the namesake of this fanfiction, and the resolution of the past with ShinRa. Tanith Drake's role in terms of the major FFVII cast is over.

And now, as always, Tokyo the Glaive _bids you all adieu_.


End file.
